


Standing on the edge of no tomorrow

by sunnysideup



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, But mostly idiots, Drama, Fluff (there will be some), M/M, Slow Burn, Space Ziam, Ziam in Space, and other tags that may need to be included as this fic progresses, boldly exploring everything except their own feelings except when they absolutely have no choice, idiots who avoid the elephant in the room that is their feelings cause they're professionals, star trek au sorta but also any other space/sci-fi/futuristic things i love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-03
Updated: 2019-11-23
Packaged: 2020-04-06 19:07:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 34,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19068835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunnysideup/pseuds/sunnysideup
Summary: Since they were old enough to look into the stars and think 'What if I could go up there?' it's been their dream. It's now their reality.These are the voyages of two men, and all those they meet and all that they encounter and everything in between, in space.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! 
> 
> Once upon a time, I posted this story on AO3 but then stuff went a bit haywire personally and I lost track of it and I didn't want this to stay on here dormant. I wanted it to be on here when I'm in the mood for writing it and actively updating it regularly.
> 
> So here I am again. I've had this idea brimming at the edge of my consciousness for a long time. Then Icarus Falls came along and Flight of the stars and I just sat one night and wrote the first chapter.
> 
> I've so many plans for this story. Little stories within the story but if I said any more, it could spoil things. Will add to the tags if there are warnings that apply as we progress and the rating may change if things get dicey out in space. (spoiler: things will get dicey but I mean even more dicey though this will not be a MCD fic) 
> 
> I'm staying faithful to a point with this story in terms of the Star Trek universe but there will be times when it's not in line with it all. It's my playground I'm creating and I may pick up influences from other sci-fi/space things I love.
> 
> In terms of updates, I intend them to be every week or so (either on a weekend or early in the week)
> 
> Thanks to Tricia for all her amazing support and for people who read it previously and said lovely things which have stayed in my brain and made me want to come back to it even more than I already did, also Heather who did the most amazing star trek edit which is superb. 
> 
> There's a new chapter to add to the 4 already done and then I'm all set to carry on. ETA: then when I posted this again, I put the wrong Zayn and Liam tag and only just realised in November. me = idiot. 
> 
> Please do get involved in the comments and if you have any ideas or thoughts on what you'd like to see, let me know and I'll try and make sure I respond to any comments asap xx
> 
> Any errors etc., are down to me.

Zayn blinks with surprise as he walks into the mess hall, turns to his left and looks out the window. 

He takes a couple of steps forward past the first couple of tables till he’s right next to the window.

Three weeks on, and it’s still so strange to not be able to see land, to not see or hear the hubbub of the city.

Sure, there’s a different kind of hustle. It’s a different kind of city here.  There are plenty of people, there’s every single type of interaction, everything just like before.  

Everything you see at home. 

There are arguments, there are petty squabbles, there are accidents in engineering that threaten to turn into tragedies but it’s made better by the promise of new life.

The new life that’s it’s their role to discover.  Their mission. 

There are people Zayn can’t imagine working with for five minutes never mind five years.

Then there are people he can’t imagine he ever existed without. 

Just like home.  Just like the place that he came to call home. Except as he stares out the square-shaped windows that look out onto, well, the universe. 

Blackness.  Except for the light of the stars.  So many stars.  

When Zayn was a kid, in the middle of a city back home, before he travelled thousands of miles to study and before, well,  _this._  

He and his friends would climb to the highest point away from all the skyscrapers, away from everything so modern and clean and new. 

And find a space to lie down, within touching distance of each other and stare up at the sky.  

Pointing out stars, making up names for planets which Zayn would correct cause well, you don’t become what Zayn is now overnight.

You study, you pore over books from centuries gone by, you read about wars, you think about how everything’s changed and yet the sky, it’s always been like this.

Something to wonder at, something to dream about.

Except for the fact that fourteen-year-old Zayn who vowed to Ant and Danny that “You know that starship that’s just been commissioned for building, I’ll be on that one day.”

He achieved that dream.  

And the shock of it, the whiplash effect as he walks into the mess hall to get some food before he starts his shift at whatever time of day it is and finds himself distracted by the beauty of everything beyond the glass.  

He gets over it quicker each day.  He hopes he never will entirely.  Hopes he never stops himself mentally calculating to which direction he needs to peer and say a quiet ‘hello mum and dad, it’s fucking cool up here but I really hope you’re okay and I hope you’re safe.’ before he carries on.

Hopes he’ll never stop wondering if the stars he looks at are any of the ones he’d point out to the others.

Knows some of the stars burned out.  Some of the planets are no more. Knows too many ceased to exist with those planets. 

Three weeks feels like a century sometimes, so twelve years may as well be an eternity. 

“Earth, well not Earth but this massive ship to Malik,”  a hand squeezes his shoulder and Zayn tears his gaze away from out the window and to the man next to him.

Louis. His partner in crime at the academy. Two lads who lived 30 miles away from each other back home and had never met and yet found themselves sat next to each other on the first day thousands of miles away from home.

Who suits the yellow he wears with pride. 

Who makes Zayn feel a little less adrift here.  A little less homesick.

Louis who complains on the daily about the food that’s on offer on this ship and that the infamous Yorkshire tea would be spinning in their grave (if tea could spin its grave of course - Zayn and his science and linguistics brain want to say so much each time but instead, he fixes on his most self-indulgent expression every time Louis says it) if they knew the type of tea that was served up these days. 

Louis who’s already whirling around and away from Zayn, distracted by the arrival of the others. 

His little crew on this ship. Louis’ that is.

The ship’s chief medical officer, Niall, who’s currently rolling his eyes at something Harry said. Pretty standard for Niall to roll his eyes.  To say something dry and then shake his head and complain about being on this vessel.

But who Zayn catches sometimes sat here or in the observation deck, staring out at the universe, not looking away for one second because if he did he may never see what he’s seeing again. 

Harry who works on the bridge with Zayn and Louis.  

Harry who wears yellow too, who sits alongside Louis on the bridge. Who really shouldn’t be allowed on this ship cause he clearly only left school three weeks ago. 

These are the people he can’t believe he ever existed without.  For all the annoying things they do which is a lot.  

They provide that other fabric of life from back home. That other thing this ship couldn’t exist without.

Friendship.  And more.

Speaking of the ‘more’, then there’s him.  The one that he’s almost afraid to put a name to that final thing that it doesn’t matter where you are in the universe, whether it’s on Earth, on any of the planets or on ships, you can’t live without.

Liam. 

If Zayn thought Harry was too young then, what’s a twenty-seven year old doing as a Captain?

“Well, okay Zayn, but you a Commander of a ship, second in command at the age of twenty-six, what’s that all about?”

Good point, dad, Zayn reminds himself each time. 

Liam who’s got the weight of this ship on his shoulders.  The weight of a trillion and one doubts about the crew of this ship, the average age of the senior crew, the lowest in Starfleet’s history. 

The legacy of one too many wars. Mistakes repeated over time, over centuries.  

Liam who despite that weight looks as light and as unruffled as always, except right now when he stops next to Zayn.

And blushes then grins, then blushes again.

Zayn supposes it’s a similar view to the one Liam has now.  The way Zayn feels his cheeks burn.  

For a master in linguistics, Zayn’s shamefully lost for words. As a master of science and logic too, Zayn knows the way he’s behaving is illogical.

Except, is it? 

He’s known of Liam for a long time. Is well aware that Liam’s known of him too.

Zayn’s not the type to be second in command to anyone without doing the groundwork first.  

But actually ‘knowing’ Liam, well apart from a couple of brief introductions before they got rushed into space, onto this ship and this mission, it’s been three weeks.

This time around anyway because yes, Zayn believes in fate, he believes in previous lives.  He believes that things and people are pre-destined. Fated to meet. 

That thought battles sometimes with the part of his brain that’s filled with science. 

That’s filled with this need for logic.  For reason, for stability and for the safety of arithmetic calculations and things that make sense when you know how to apply it all. 

An author in the 20th century once said though that Love is many things, none of them logical.

Zayn’s beginning to realise that’s right.  

Love. 

That other thing this ship is full of, even though it’s still so young. Time loses a lot of meaning.

The knowledge of the precariousness of the universe means you fall, hard and fast. 

If you’re Zayn, and apparently if you’re Liam too though you’re incapable of articulating it. 

The irony once again that the genius who knows science so well also is the master of language and yet sometimes when they aren’t on the bridge or working can barely say a sentence without stumbling over words to Liam. 

You dance around each other, the slightest touch and its atoms exploding but in your head.

It’s like all those stars Zayn saw in the sky and that he can’t see now are formed within Liam. 

He can’t say this to Liam. Not yet anyway. 

“-beam down to the planet later, our first away mission?”

It’s only Louis’ not so subtly nudging Zayn’s side that helps him hear some of what Liam says.

And he can only muster a mumbled “What? and catch the other three giggling while Liam smiles that fucking smile that hardly helps Zayn with cohesive thought. 

Before the world, or this ship or maybe just a very bad case of vertigo spins Zayn’s world on its axis and he tumbles to the floor. 

It’s quiet for what feels like several seconds, and then all hell breaks loose.

Zayn hears screams, and Zayn hears running, and not too far away, he can hear explosions.

He smells panic, fear.  All too aware that some of it is his own.

He pulls himself up and hears Liam’s voice calling to the bridge on his communicator but there’s no reply, he hears Paul their Chief Engineer who Zayn hadn’t noticed before calling for damage reports, and then there’s another explosion and an almighty shudder in the ship. 

He only just manages to stay upright. 

He hears the tremble that’s concealed but not well enough in Liam’s voice as he follows Liam as quickly as they can move towards the bridge, taking in the carnage around them, only dimly aware of the others following behind. 

He’s never felt quite so far from home right now. Never felt more like he wants to stop time for just a moment to say all the things he thinks he may never get the chance to say. 

It’s stupid and selfish. 

This right now?  This is the thing no one talked about, but everyone thought of.

The thing in life through centuries that’s always been present but was missing here on this ship and no one missed it at all.  


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes as before. 
> 
> This chapter is in Liam's POV. Flashback at the start and then everything else is not.

Small eyes peer through the lens of the telescope,  Liam’s feet on tiptoes as his hands move to change the focus, to make what’s out there feel closer.

Here, in this room at least, it’s safe.  He can escape to other places, and block out the noises, the shouting, the crying.

He stays here even when it’s cold.  No one bothers him here, he’s easily forgotten.  He always has been, till he’s useful and he almost misses the sound, engrossed as he is in the view.  Lost in the dreams he’s harboured since he was old enough to understand that people explored what was at the other end of the lens.

The door behind him flies open, he doesn‘t even have the chance to move out the way before a hand grips his right arm, and he’s spun around to face them.

Words are spat out, familiar words of blame. How it’s all at his feet, the arguments, and the upset is all down to him.

A kid his age; to blame?

He used to look up into their eyes; he used to argue.  He used to cry. He used to be afraid, but that’s gone now and they aren’t paying attention to him anymore anyway so he quietly turns back around and peers back through the lens.

If he clicks his feet together a few times, maybe a miracle can happen like in that film from centuries ago, maybe he’ll transport, right here and now to a star above, or one of the new starships they’ve built.  

“Too stupid for that, stop looking through that lens, you stupid kid,“ he hears in his head before a hand grasps his arm and he’s swung around and he’s had enough so he stamps his foot down as hard as he can.

There’s a satisfying cry followed by swear words Liam’s heard too many times, but he doesn‘t care, he runs out of the room, down the stairs and through the front door.

“Don’t come back,” he hears distantly, he doesn’t care, that suits him, anywhere’s better than here after all.  

Anywhere that takes him to where he belongs. In the sky, far, far above.  Away from this.

\--

Liam’s fingertips pull away from the small window as he shuts his eyes at the memory.

He turns away and looks around his cabin, eyes drawn towards the computer screen on the desk to the right of him, knowing the enormity of the task that’s still waiting for him to finish.

Three days on, and his head still hurts.  Falling to the floor and being knocked, well,  _thrown_ sideways into the base of the captain’s chair on the bridge would do that.

Refusing any medical treatment other than what Niall had insisted he accept too.

The knowledge of over thirty deaths, and others’ with injuries so severe that some will never work again, mean that accepting medical help when Niall and the remaining medical crew are up against it as it seems a waste of resources.

There’s no consolation that this was a ‘random attack’ and not the start of a war, not this time anyway.  There’s no consolation at all that the ship that caused this damage is no more.

All this has been a waste because too many people have had their lives changed, too many people are seeing for the first time what it’s like to be on a Starship and the dangers they face. Too many people won’t go home.

Is here really any better than back there?  

He stretches out his arms, flexes his fingers and pulls the chair away from the desk enough so he can sit down and get back to the impossible. Softening the blow and pretending like he understands how it will feel to get the communication from him.  

The door chimes at the same time he hears a familiar voice say, “Permission to ent-Oh.”

Liam’s shoulders tense at the voice, though he turns to face Zayn as he comes in through the door.

“Captain Payne, you know O’Brien will kill you when he knows you’ve not reset the security since-.”

Za-, no, Commander Malik, stops talking then, the reprimand dying on his lips, and Liam kicks himself internally for two things.  

One, that Za-no, come on Liam you’re on duty, Malik stopped in the middle of his sentence must mean it’s obvious that Liam’s none too discreet about the impact of the memories of what happened in this room less than forty-eight hours ago.  

And two, that he has to stop himself from automatically thinking of the other man as Zayn because 1. there’s no law against calling him that in his own head and 2. Well, okay there may be no law against it but where does it lead Liam?

He forces himself to smile and waves a hand towards the door.

“I’ll sort it later. What brings you here anyway, Malik?”

Malik seems hesitant to speak, opens his mouth once but no words come out. Then again, he’s probably the most attractive goldfish impersonator in history.

Liam can’t help the irritation he feels. He’s tired, over-tired probably, and the weight of the number of personal letters he still has to write weighs too heavily so he sits down on the chair and pulls it in closer to the edge of the desk and the screen.  

There was a time, not even that long ago, that he’d have smiled and probably said something funny, something to put Malik at ease, it’d be some wildly inappropriate flirting that’s strictly against  Starfleet regulations, but it’d make the burden of being Captain less onerous for a few minutes.

“Okay, well while you think up whatever it was you came to lecture me about then, I’ll get busy writing letters to tell people that your son, your daughter, your husband, wife, second-cousin-once-removed, is dead, but it’s okay cause Captain Payne says they made a worthwhile sacrifice. You know, I’ll just do this while you stand there like that.”

“Liam.”

“We’re not off-duty, Malik,” Liam interrupts shooting a quick glance towards Zayn. He half-expects Malik to flinch or look angry at the way Liam’s responded to him so far, but instead, before he looks back at the computer, there’s an even worse look on his face.

“It wasn’t your fault Liam, none of it was.  And I hope you know that because it’s just so illogical for you to beat yourself up about all that happened. But here, this room, you had no choice, it was you or him.”

Liam says nothing, just stares blankly at the computer screen, his eyes blurry from tiredness, or more likely exhaustion, and clears his throat, hopes that the emotion that comes back so easily whenever he thinks about what happened here won’t betray him.

“Will that be all, Commander? Thank you but I’ve got—”

It’s Malik’s turn to interrupt this time.

“Have you written to his parents yet?  Will you write to them? Will you tell them their son was heroic when in reality he wanted to kill you and he was guilty of accessory to the murder of all those other people you’re writing about?”

“Malik, please.”

“Or will you tell the truth? Can you even face up to it or are you gonna just internalise it all? Cause mate, if you think that’s gonna work, if you think that’s the way to captain a ship and deal with the after-effects of the trauma on you, never mind the rest of us then you really are deluded and you need to step down as Captain before you do something stupid.”

Liam’s up and out of the chair before he even realises he’s doing it and he has to stop himself from getting right up in Malik’s space. There’s a moment when he thinks he’ll punch him.

But, maybe there are advantages to his childhood, to the way he was brought up, as fucked up as it was, he knows nothing is solved with violence. Not in the heat of the moment.  

Instead, he spits out,“Not your mate, Malik, I’m your Captain, the person you report into.”

“Okay, if I’m not your mate, what am I then?”

Liam almost responds with ‘My second in command, now fucking act like it please,’ but the weight of everything, the rush of standing up so fast and the way the pain in his head suddenly makes its presence felt means he almost staggers where he’s stood, and he can feel a hand grab his arm while Malik’s other arm supports his back as they walk the few steps to his bed and he sits down on it heavily.

He blows out a shaky breath as the pain starts to subside and mumbles, “Thank you.”

There’s no response and no sound until, “Malik to the Bridge. Show Captain Payne off shift for the next few hours. Lieutenant Tomlinson, you have the con, contact me only if there are any emergencies.”

There’s a response from Tomlinson to confirm he’s heard and will do as told but Liam doesn‘t hear it fully as he protests.

“What? No, you’ve got no right.” Liam stands up as Malik pulls his hand away from his communicator but he wobbles as he stands and he has to lower himself down back onto the bed quickly to avoid passing out. He slumps forward, running a shaky hand through his hair as the weight shifts on the bed and Malik comes to sit next to him.

“Actually, I’ve got every right as your second-in-command Liam, you will be the greatest captain in the history of Starfleet, but not if you carry on like this. Not if you don’t talk about what you’ve been through and share the load of what you’re dealing with. Besides, if I hadn’t done it, Horan was ready to stage a medical intervention and hypospray you with a tranquilliser to knock you out till we got back to Earth.”

Liam snorts.

“He’s lethal with that bloody hypospray, I swear he’s got some kind of kink for it, or maybe he just hates me.”

If Louis Tomlinson was sat next to him on the bed, he thinks he’d have responded with ‘Don’t we all mate’ and then he’d have gently slapped his head and then ruffled it and then kissed it better as soon as he’d remembered that Liam was still recovering from the head injury, well okay, injuries.

He’s not here though.  Mal-Zayn is, and as Liam lifts his head and straightens up and glances across at Zayn with a ‘well, can you blame him’ expression on his face, Zayn doesn’t ruffle his head or say anything at all.

He looks, almost sad.  

“Liam, we’ve only worked together for a few weeks, and before that, I knew you by reputation. new you aced all the tests, knew you and Niall were like some kind of dynamic duo. I expected some kind of arrogant arsehole based on the things I’d heard, and yeah, with the crew you’re confident, witty, a bit cocky and all that but I dunno, am starting to see more and let’s just say Niall doesn’t hate you. I don’t think anyone does.”

“Ensign Tanner may have disagreed with that assessment,”  Liam responds with a rueful smile.  

Zayn winces. “Fucking hell, a foot-in-mouth time again Malik you twat, sorry Liam, you know sometimes I’m even shocked that I’m an expert in linguistics, given how often I don’t engage me brain before talking.”

“Oh I dunno, it kinda humanises you a bit, makes you seem less of some amazing genius that none of us could ever live up to with your linguistics and your science stuff too.”

It’s like Liam clicked a finger as the tension disappears from the room and Liam’s shoulders relax, just a bit.  

“I came here in the first place to try to persuade you to sleep for a bit or talk cause you know it’s not good to keep it in Liam. This is your first ship and I’ve got no doubts about what you can do, but that could change if you keep it all to yourself, you don’t have to tell me everything, just don’t be afraid.”

Somewhere in Liam’s brain there’s an automatic response that shouts out, ‘that’s hard to do when you spent your childhood scared of saying or doing the wrong thing.’ But that’s not for today, that’s a can of worms he’s barely even touched with Niall, never mind Zayn.

It’s safer to nod and say a quiet, “I know, and thanks for checking on me,” then even quieter so it’s almost imperceptible to his own ears he adds, “for caring.”

“You don’t have to thank me for either those things Liam. I mean I’d do it anyway as you’re the Captain but, it’s not just for that, you know?”

Liam notices only then how Zayn’s left hand is resting on the bedsheets in the space between them and there’s this absurd moment when Liam feels like it’d be normal almost to drop his own hand on top and squeeze Zayn’s.  It’s almost a reflex reaction, but he did well at the shock test at the academy so he manages to distract the part of his brain that wants to do it and instead scratches the material of the trousers.

“Yeah, I do, thanks Zayn.”

Zayn smiles.

When Liam was young, on those nights when his sanctuary was the telescope and the universe and stars at the end of the lens, there was one star that sparkled particularly brightly, one star that made Liam feel like he wasn’t alone, like as long as he saw it he’d be okay, as long as he could escape to this room and have it there then it’d be fine.

Then he’d walked out, and he’s not felt that way since.  

Till the last few weeks, and then it all came crashing down predictably really cause that’s what Liam life is.

Maybe he spoke too soon though cause no one should light up the way Zayn just did, or smile the way Zayn does when Liam says his name. And for his own part, no one person’s smile, except maybe his mum’s before things got so hard at home, has made Liam feel safe and warm and made a room, or the whole ship even, feels like it could run back to Earth on Zayn’s smile alone.

Liam’s a walking cliche and just thankful Zayn isn’t Vulcan and can’t read his thoughts right now.

Except, the smile that’s on Zayn’s face is different, knowing even, and it’s just a slight movement, the way the fingers on Zayn’s hand flex slightly and Liam never noticed before how full Zayn’s lips are, or for that matter, how warm this room can be.

Zayn’s hand moves quickly but Liam moves quicker and jumps off the bed like he’s just found out Zayn’s a twenty-foot spider.

Note to self, Liam thinks, this is no less cliche.

Zayn doesn‘t look upset or even disappointed, his smile’s softer, his eyes understanding, and Liam’s more grateful than he can express and he hopes in amongst all the panic he’s feeling himself, he’s sending all that back, cause in any other space, the pun definitely not intended, and time this would be the rightest thing to happen.

But it’s now, and all this is new, and if he was honest with himself and Zayn and Niall, he‘d admit that the events of the last few days are a lot, perhaps too much to deal with, and he’s dealing with the fact that everything he thought he could handle alone, he can’t.

Add to that someone trying to kill him and how this room feels anything other than safe and doubts it will again for some time.

It’s too much, and the old Liam, the Liam who dealt with the trauma of his childhood and the stress of studies by fucking anything that moved at the academy, feels the familiar desire, the familiar need to clear his mind of everything that’s on repeat but he can’t.

Well, he  _could_ , but no he can’t because something in him tells him that this is more, or could be.  

That and the fact he’s Captain and Zayn’s his second-in-command, and Liam’s not dumb enough to think that on this ship they’re all living like monks, but this is his chance, what he’s longed for and he can’t,  _won’t_ risk it.

“I know Liam, and believe me, I feel the same.”

Liam blinks as Zayn stands up.

“What?  Did I say that out loud? Are you half Vulcan or summat cause I definitely didn‘t say that out loud,“ he pauses, and then cause he isn‘t so sure now adds, “did I?“

Zayn shakes his head.

“No, you didn’t, and no I’m not, but we’ve got to be careful. A good example to the crew and all that. And you, and me, all of us need, to absorb everything that’s happened. You need to sleep and write those letters, with my help to lessen the load, or Harry’s good with words. And you need to get some proper help for the head injuries you didn’t let Niall treat fully, and then we go home to Earth and we deal with the aftermath and the inquests, and then we get back out here on this ship, and we do what we came out here to do.”

“You’re so logical.”

Zayn exhales a sigh. “Sometimes it sucks, right now for example. But fate, she can be good. Good enough that I’ve got faith.”

“Then so have I.”  

Liam’s only mildly surprised that he believes it, and okay, Zayn is close enough to reach out and touch and pull close to him and they could screw the consequences and each other tonight, and it’s what Liam needs, but it never worked before, and some time he has to change, give fate a hand.

Zayn nods. “Good then. Now don‘t think I haven‘t noticed the way you’re wobbling a bit where you stand, so before you do any more letters, we’ll sort the security out for getting in here again so you don’t give O’Brien heart failure, and you can have a sleep then and tomorrow’s another d–”

The sound of their communicators interrupts Zayn and Liam presses his own.

“Bridge to Captain Payne, sorry to disturb you, is Commander Malik with you?”

Liam presses his communicator to speak. “He is, Lieutenant Tomlinson, what’s up?”

“Starfleet Command need to speak to you. They need us to change course, there’s a planet that’s sent up a distress call and we’re the closest, well the only, ship that’s not over five days away.”

Zayn’s shaking his head. “They can’t make us do this, we need to get back to Earth, do the repairs, get the injured to proper hospitals, deal with the dead, and you need rest.”

The unspoken ‘and so do I‘ goes without saying but Liam knows they‘ve no choice and everything he‘d thought of just moments ago feels frivolous, foolish as Liam holds up his hand and smiles grimly at Zayn, no, Malik.

“Thanks, Tomlinson, tell them I’ll take the call in my quarters in ten minutes.”

“Aye Captain.”

Liam knows Malik’s about to protest, but then the words die on his lips and Liam never imagined he’d feel so tired, so jaded, or see that reflected in the eyes of his crew after just three weeks.

Yet, here they are.

As close to each other in the room as they were before, they may as well be on other sides of the universe for how it feels so different now. It makes it easier at least, the transition.

“Gather the senior crew in the ready room in thirty minutes please, Commander Malik.”

“Aye, Captain.”  

Then he’s gone, and it’s not easier, not at all.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For info: An M-class planet is an Earth-like planet. Ostara is a made up name and I was literally wracking my brains for days on what to call it. Thankfully there are planet name generators et voila. :)
> 
> This is Zayn’s POV.

_2 days later_

“Heard who he‘s chosen for the away team?”

Zayn looks up at Louis’ voice and his eyes follow him as he pulls the chair away from the table slightly, places the bowl of soup down then sits opposite Zayn, the chair scraping as Louis pulls it nearer to the table.

He nods in response to Louis whose eyebrows raise up quickly before his eyes narrow at his best mate’s non-verbal response.

“Wait, he didn’t pick you?” Louis asks.

“No, he did, but did you know he hasn’t even checked in with Niall yet and he’s still expecting to be leading the away team? It’s not even as though it’s the first one.”

Louis blows on the spoonful of soup, not taking his eyes away from Zayn as he does, then he eats, or more like slurps cause Tommo is like a toddler when he eats, and grins at Zayn’s look of disapproval before pulling a face as he places the spoon back on the table.

“Bloody hell, you’d think after over three weeks of cooking, they’d have mastered a tomato soup by now.”

“The main chef died, Louis.”

“True. Anyway that’s not why I said it, and stop being reasonable you, back to your boyfriend. maybe it’s cause Starfleet are all anxious about the planet, the distress call and all that, and they’ve asked him to, it’s standard for a Captain to be going down to a new planet, anyway.”

“First, he’s not my boyfriend, and if we’re talking about crushes on your fellow crewmates, I’d tread carefully there Tomlinson, and second,”  Zayn sighs and leans back in his chair, “I mean you’ve got a point, it’s just…”

“You’re worried about your boyfriend, I get it, Malik, I do.”

Louis is saved only from Zayn’s hand reaching over the table to swipe at his head by his quick reflexes. Though his chair doesn‘t fare so well as it topples onto its side.

He picks up the bread roll and takes a bite just as both their communicators go off.

“Saved by the bell,” he chirrups and then he’s off and out into the corridor before Zayn can blink.

\--

The briefing room is large on this ship, an oval table in the centre of the room which is touch-operated and where information can be displayed in front of each person sat at the table.

On the left-hand side, as Zayn and Louis walk in, Paul’s stood next to Paddy.

At the other end of the room, Liam and Niall are deep in conversation. Conversation which is growing increasingly heated.

Zayn doesn’t want it to seem like he’s intruding so he goes to the replicator and presses a couple of buttons and within seconds, the coffee appears.

“Seems like Niall’s got just as much of a cob on with Liam as you do about his lack of care for his own health.”

Louis is great most of the time, but sometimes he doesn’t understand the concept of keeping his voice lower because as soon as he speaks, the noise from the other end of the room quietens. Zayn turns around to find that Liam’s expression, which hadn’t looked perky before, darkens even more and Niall shoots Louis a glare.  

Louis for his part shrugs, and then at the sight of the latest arrival, Harry,  waves and goes to join him on the opposite side of the table from where Zayn takes a seat.  

Liam looks down at the table as Niall murmurs something. Zayn doesn’t miss the way Liam flinches, files it for later, and sees how Niall shakes his head as he pulls out the chair closest to where Liam stands at the head of the table staring down at his PADD.

He tries hard not to show the way his hands shake slightly as he holds it, Zayn thinks. Tries harder, as he lifts his head up to look around the table at his senior team, to look composed and okay and like he’s ready to do this.

To most of their eyes he likely succeeds, but Zayn’s not fooled and neither’s Niall.

“Report please, Malik.” Liam moves aside as Zayn stands up and takes the few steps next to Liam, pulling up the information on his PADD which he’d collected on the way from the mess hall.

“Thanks, Captain. As you all know, the planet Ostara sent out a distress call a little over fifty hours ago. Starfleet requested that we respond as the nearest ship to the planet. Since the distress call we’ve tried to make contact on numerous occasions but with no success to date.”

“What’s the history of the planet? Are they likely to be hostile? Was there anything in the distress call that hinted at what could be going on?” asks Louis.

“History of the planet is limited, though the information suggests that it’s an M class planet. As far as we know the Ostarians are a peaceful race. They haven’t yet been involved in any wars, or if they have, then in such a minor role we aren’t aware of them. And no, all we got was that they needed help and quickly.”

“And we were  _really_  the closest to help them, despite everything that’s happened, despite everything that’s  _still_ happening?”

Paul’s question is valid. Zayn knows it, he thinks Liam knows it. They all know it.

“It’s our orders, Higgins, it’s just the way it’s got to be,. Liam sounds resigned, more resigned and weary than he’s sounded in the last couple of days.

“Fuck orders,” mutters Niall before he lifts a hand in apology. “Sorry, sorry everyone, sorry Captain, it’s just, I’m the CMO on this ship and I have to patch you all up, but it’s getting harder to find a plaster big enough to paper over the cracks.”

“Well, we hope that it’s not as bad as we fear, eh, Horan?” Zayn watches Liam and Niall’s expressions closely as Liam responds to the main doctor on this ship, but also his friend.

Niall looks unconvinced. Liam looks desperate for some kind of what, Zayn doesn’t know. Maybe reassurance that Niall trusts him which makes little sense but then again does anything?

Quickly though they aren’t looking at each other anymore and Liam’s asking for a security report as Zayn takes his seat again.

Paddy stands up and walks to where Zayn had been.  He’s all smiles usually, the equivalent of a teddy bear but with an Irish accent, one that’s lighter than Paul’s. He’s deceptive is Paddy.

Chief of Security on this ship, he has to be.  

“As Commander Malik said, there’s little data on Ostara, and that makes me nervous so I’ve already spoken to the Captain and recommended we send a team of four security personnel down with the away team for the first time. It’s a balance between being careful and also not appearing to be too aggressive. Needless to say, I’ll be one of the personnel.”

“Thanks, O’Brien. Now Higgins, what’s our ETA?”

Paul looks at his watch. “Forty-five minutes Captain, we’ll have you and the away team down there within fifty.”

Liam nods, murmurs a thank you then reaches for a sip of water from the glass on the table before continuing.

“Malik, Tomlinson, O’Brien, as you know it’ll be just yourselves coming down with me and the rest of the security team. For now as we don’t want to cause alarm. Horan, you’re on standby, and Higgins, I need our best person to be ready to beam us down and get us back quickly if it goes haywire, and I know these aren’t ideal circumstances but maybe this is what we need, to deal with something real, something we can directly impact, something where we can make sure people don’t suffer what we went through.”

The thought crosses Zayn’s mind, just as it has every waking moment since they got directed to go to Ostara, that they’ll be too late.  

Time and history have taught him that attacks are swift and even if the reason for the call is still there, it won’t be for good reasons. They, as a ship, should know this.

Liam knows this, Zayn thinks, the set of his jaw as he finishes his words and the way his smile doesn’t reach his eyes proves this.  

No one says a word though. Instead, they nod, they go back to their stations for the minutes before the away team will congregate in the transporter room.

And they hope with all their heart that Liam’s right.

**

If Zayn were to describe the sensation of being transported, even as a linguist he’d struggle. Pins and needles are one way, but it’s not wholly accurate.

It’s this feeling you’re not in your body and this constant apprehension that the person you are will end up in several pieces by the time you’re beamed down to where you’re going.

Zayn’s read books about where it all used to go so wrong. People transported to places uninhabitable never to be seen again, or cases where people lost one leg, or an arm, or both. Or where they were never the same again mentally.

It’s not been like that for a long time but it still makes him nervous, even though it’s his second time.

The apprehension is greater today. The not knowing what they’re stepping into means his stomach’s in knots.

There’s a part of him though that he would never deny, pointless to deny it. He’s excited, wonders whether it’ll ever stop being exciting. He’s like a cat on a hot tin roof, a kid just before Christmas.  

This is why he signed up to this vocation. He could have earned his fortune, lived in the lap of luxury writing books, interpreting, doing his science stuff on terra firma, but that felt like playing.

This feels like playing too but in the playground that he would have written about. He’s doing it, maybe he’ll be part of history rather than writing about it.

Only time will tell whether the history will be kind.

So he’s excited too, it’s a heady combination, even as he grips his phaser, set to stun, hoping he has no reason to set it to kill anytime in his future.

The first sensation, aside from pins and needles as he materialises on Ostara and sees the others appear with him, is cold.

The first sight, aside from the reassuring sight of each of the away team, is of white, not just any white. but snow that blankets the ground everywhere Zayn looks.

Little smatterings of the colours of the leaves show in the trees but otherwise, it’s snow, and it’s cold, just like it was all those years ago on Earth.  

At home.

“Fuck me, it’s freezing.”

Zayn can’t hold back the giggle that bubbles over at Louis’ words. He thinks it’s nerves, though he isn’t wrong. 

“Well, ten out of ten for observation skills,” quips Liam before he adds more seriously, “We should record this for future visits to this planet, something to ask if it’s like this all the time or just seasonal.”

_If_  we see someone, goes unsaid.

Because it’s beautiful down here, just trees and snow wherever Zayn looks, but that’s it. It does nothing to ease the tension that’s growing.

He hears Paddy tell his security team to fan out, hears Liam talking into his communicator while Louis falls into position behind Zayn.  

It’s quiet, and Zayn likes quiet. Just not like this.

Then it’s not, Zayn doesn’t know what he expected, but the people on bikes that look like motorbikes, or more specifically, quad bikes come over the brow of the hill.

It’s definitely not what he expected.

There’s half a dozen of them, all of them wearing clothes just like Zayn wears back at home, not uniforms but normal civilian clothes.

None of them as they get nearer, look alien in any way. It’s like Zayn got beamed down to Scotland in the middle of winter.

For a moment he considers asking Liam to check with Paul that he beamed them down to the right place.

“Hello, welcome to Ostara.”

Zayn blinks. Nothing about this is becoming any clearer. There’s no trace of urgency, or upset, or anything that suggests that a distress call came from this planet.

The first man is tall, taller than all the away team. Whippet-thin, with a beard that’s sandy in its colour. It’s hard to make out the rest of him as he’s wrapped up in layers of clothing and a woolen hat.  

The others are smaller.

The man stops two feet away from where Zayn and Liam and the rest of the away team stand closer together now.  

Zayn and Liam next to each other, Paddy and one of the security team, Rosemount, Zayn thinks is his name flanking them. The other two behind them either side of Louis.

“I’m Captain Payne, this is Commander Malik and my away team. We’re from the Starship Hope, we received a distress call that said it was from this planet?”

Give Liam his due, he sounds curious, questioning, even a little confused but in no way confrontational.

Not that there’s a reason to be, but it feels off.  _Everything_ about this place feels off.

The man, who Zayn assumes is a leader, steps forward, hand outstretched, a smile on his face.

“Welcome Captain Payne, Commander Malik, gentlemen. Ah yes, you missed all the fun.”

“You mean?”

“We  _were_ attacked, just like we are with increasing regularity. But we coped, we got ourselves back together. The person who sent the distress call, he’s new, it won’t happen again.”

Zayn catches Liam’s eye, just for a second and tightens his fingers around the phaser.

“You don’t need our help?” Liam clarifies.

“We don’t need their help, do we?” The man turns slightly to include the others of this planet who had come with him.

They all shake their head and then the man turns back to face Liam and Zayn, the smile still on his face.

A smile that even if Zayn was stupid, he doesn’t think would convince him.

But what are they supposed to do now? There’s nothing in the man’s demeanour aside from the insincere smile that gives immediate cause for alarm.

They’ve said they don’t need help, and Zayn didn’t want to come here, nor did Louis, nor did Paddy and nor did Liam.

It should be open and shut, it should be as simple as Liam saying some platitude about how they can assist with anything they need help with, how they can help them in the future, the art of diplomacy.

A chance for them all to flex those muscles, to do what their mission and Starfleet expects of them.  

Then leave.  And be grateful for the moment they arrive back on the ship, the chance to head back to Earth. To regroup, to recover and head back out to space.  

Something tells Zayn that’s what they should do.

“Okay, well, my security officer Chief O’Brien may be able to help you. Offer advice against future attacks.”

The man, and it’s disquieting too that they don’t know his name, laughs, and it’s soon echoed by the laughter of his companions.

It’s a sound that’s too loud in this setting, for a place that even the man admits has suffered losses.

“Oh but Captain Payne, I  _really_  don’t think you and anyone on your good ship can offer me any advice on what we can do to avoid losses, to avoid attacks,” the man pauses, and the smile is back, fixed, “when you yourselves lost many recently. I think maybe we could offer you help, but no, the people from your planet, from Earth, always assuming you know best.”

News travels fast it seems, except does it?    

The man hasn’t stopped talking though.

“The arrogance of those from Earth, that you rush to places like this, assuming you will make everything better when history tells us you make everything worse. It’s ironic that you presume to assume you will help rather than hinder. That you alone have the perseverance and ability to rebuild, that we would even take your help should we need it when I would soon as kill each of you than consider such a thing.”

Zayn sees the movement of Liam’s hand stopping Paddy from stepping forward as Zayn does the same with Rosemount while his other hand grips the phaser so hard it almost hurts.  

“But we don’t use violence as our favoured method of dealing with unwanted incursions, we simply educate, remind and suggest. Only after all that is attempted and ignored do we harm.”

Zayn watches as Liam swallows, chews at his bottom lip as though he’s carefully considering his next words, and Zayn can’t quite believe once upon a time he coveted the role of Captain.

“Forgive us our being here. We came only to assist where it’s helpful, to learn where it’s possible, and we would never think of outstaying our welcome.”

The man smiles a little more warmly at Liam’s words though the smile fades as Liam continues.

“The thing is, we told you we were coming, repeatedly. Why allow us here? You were expecting us judging by how soon you appeared. If we’re unwelcome, why are we here?”

“What was his name? The one who tried to kill you in your cabin not even a week ago Captain Payne? Why do you consider yourself above medical treatment?”

The fuck?

Liam goes to speak, but nothing comes out and Zayn doesn’t trust his own voice but he manages.

“Who are you? How do you kn—”

“How do you think we’re prepared and recover so quickly from each of our trials, each of the attacks from beings as arrogant as yourselves? Oh, you’ll find more violent foes, I guarantee it. I also guarantee that a war is brewing. The greatest war that our universe has seen to date. I guarantee that we Ostarians will prevail. But you, your planet, your ship, Commander, you will last for moments, unless.”

“Unless what?” Liam finds his voice again but there’s an unmistakable tremble to it.

Zayn loves people that smile. His mum can smile and it makes him feel like he’s wrapped up safe in a blanket. Louis smiles and it makes Zayn think of all the things they’ve done together, all the mischief in the world that Louis brings combined with the feeling of family and being included.

Liam smiles, and it’s like nothing else on earth. It’s like someone redefined joy and added Liam’s name next to it.  

This man’s smile though. Zayn had almost forgotten how cold it is on this planet because the only chill he feels is from the man before them.

And what’s worse is that the others with him, their smiles mirror his now.  

“I’ve said too much, now I think you should go. I think you should prepare, and I think you should try to be ready. Perhaps your coming here will be your salvation, though I think not.”

Zayn can hear Louis mutter exactly what he’s thinking from behind him and he knows Liam heard as he tenses.

The man doesn’t flinch as he continues.

“Your words are cheap, your actions cheaper. Now I believe I asked you to leave. I don’t wish to ask again.”

The threat hangs in the air, but Zayn can feel, understand even, that Liam doesn’t want to leave it there, doesn’t want to leave like this.

All the rules of diplomacy, all the rules and lessons in dealing with hostile races don’t allow for giving up so easily.

Perhaps it’s the remembrance of the attacks, the fact it’s so recent and that trying to countenance the threat is too much now.  

“As you wish.” Liam’s words are accompanied by a slump in his shoulders and a look of regret he exchanges with Zayn before he adds, “Higgins, seven to beam up.”

“So fast?” Paul’s surprise is clear and unsurprising, but the man’s expression changes slightly.

And they need to be back on board the ship five minutes ago.  

This time, the sensation of pins and needles is a blessing, and Zayn almost sags onto the floor with relief as they materialise back onto the transporter pads.

There’s an outburst of noise in the room as he and the others step off the pad, though Paddy instructs the other security personnel to leave so it’s just the senior crew.

“What the fuck was all that about?”

“How the hell did he know something had attacked us, that someone had attacked you, Captain?”

Niall’s voice joins the fray as he enters the room having finished checking over the security personnel.

“He knew what?” Niall steps forward, waving his tricorder in Liam’s direction, frowning as he does so, then on to Zayn then Paddy and Louis.  

“You’re all fucking freezing, what the hell happened?”

Zayn doesn’t take his eyes away from Liam the whole time. He looks how Zayn feels though. He doesn’t look at anyone, even accepts Niall’s fussing over him.

“And what the fuck was that all about not telling us his name?”

Liam’s eyes flick upwards, then toward Louis and he nods.

“Yeah, I want to know too. And we will find out, cause you aren’t telling me it’s just a coincidence they knew about the attack, that they knew, well—” He doesn’t address his own attack, just like he hasn’t since he and Zayn were in his cabin together days ago. “We find out, and we report to Starfleet, and we make sure that what he said about the war is taken seriously cause that,” Liam jerks his thumb backward towards the transporter pad, “That felt like a declaration of war.”

\--

Zayn thinks even if he hadn’t asked the computer to locate Liam, he’d have found him easily by the sound of the damage he does with his fists as he punches the bag in the gymnasium.  

He can hear it the moment he gets out of the turbo lift on deck 12.

Liam doesn’t notice Zayn until he steps in front of him on the other side of the punching bag, but when he sees him, he stops immediately.

Zayn considers whether to admonish him for doing this when he’s barely functioning, when Zayn knows that Niall’s still concerned and would be furious if he knew Liam was here.

He doesn’t. Doesn’t think that making Liam defensive, more closed off, would help anyone.  

Liam wipes the back of his hand against his forehead, the sweat pouring down his face and the back of his head down his body, and sits down on the end of one of the weight machines.

“Think I’m overreacting?”

“By punching a bag?”

Liam rolls his eyes.

“No, the declaration of war. I mean how do we know they aren’t just insane? That they’ve read a load of history books and come to that conclusion?” he pauses, reaching down to pick up the towel on the floor, “I mean how do we know that they aren’t just time-wasters and that the attack on them didn’t even happen? How do we know that they aren’t just delaying things for god knows what reason so we don’t do what we’re meant to, take those we’ve lost back home, treat the injured?”

Zayn opens his mouth but Liam’s still speaking.

“And, honestly, the attack on me, him mentioning it, that’s the bit that got me most because hardly anyone knows. we used the most secure transmissions to report it, and even then only to Admiral Bennett. And I know Starfleet has spies, but so quickly?”

Zayn waits for a moment when Liam stops speaking to be sure he’s finished.

“You asked me if I thought you were overreacting, Captain.”

Liam’s eyebrows dart up and down for a moment, the shift from formality the other day, the shift from their last conversation alone is a welcome contrast at least.

“Liam, I mean, sorry, I don’t know, but we’ve only been on this ship for a few weeks, and this happens after the attack and whether they’re telepaths or whether there’s more, or whether it’s nothing, history tells us we can’t just dismiss it. So no, I don’t think you are.”

“They said we had to prepare, but how and when? Do we stop everything? Do we postpone going back to Earth no matter the cost? Because if he’s right the risk is greater?”

Liam doesn‘t articulate the cost but Zayn knows it could cost lives, the injured who need more specialist treatment than can be given on the ship.  

They sit silently together for Zayn doesn’t know how long. Caught up in the questions in their heads with barely any answers except vague ones, and even those answers lead to more questions, then more again.

Liam stands up and walks towards the window in the corner of the gym.

“When was the last time you contacted your parents, Zayn?”

Zayn doesn’t reply, the truth is he hasn’t thought about them consciously in days, not since before the attack when everything now feels like it was so innocent, so simple.  

He doesn’t want to scare them, worry them, doesn’t want to reach out to them cause he’s fearful that if he does that, it’s admitting that he may never see them again. That this little adventure could cost him.

“Yesterday,” he lies.  

Liam turns back, his gaze fixed on Zayn as though he’s measuring if he’s telling the truth.

Zayn thinks he’ll call him out on the lie but then he smiles. Not the smile that’s the one that’s the definition in the new dictionary, it’s a pale imitation of it, but he looks satisfied at least.

“Good,” then firmer he repeats, “good.”

The squeeze of his shoulder should comfort Zayn, the way Liam’s fingertips lightly graze the back of his neck is something Zayn’s not even realised he’s needed. Or maybe that’s a lie too.

“I promise you’ll get to tell them all you told them yesterday in person soon. All of you will.”

Zayn doesn’t contradict Liam, but he doesn’t say he agrees either.

“How about you Liam, your family?”

Liam shrugs, without a further word, he walks out of the gym and into the corridor before he walks back in and maybe he’s about to say about his family.

Instead, he’s all business again, like someone has turned a switch on, or maybe off is more appropriate.

“Get some rest Commander, the senior crew is to meet in the ready room in four hours.”

Then he’s gone before Zayn can at least try to tell him to get some rest too. He’s left to stare after him before his gaze flicks around the room, finally resting on the insignia and the name of the ship which feels almost like it’s taunting him,  _them_  at the moment.

Hope.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is just Zayn and Liam and in Liam’s POV.
> 
> Note: I’ve gone with the reboot films way of calculating the stardate. The year is 2298 and 52 is what number day of the year it is so in our terms it would be: 21st February 2298. :) There are reasons for choosing this date which shall become clearer as we progress through this story (though not for a while). x

_Captain’s log stardate 2298.52  - We departed from the planet Ostara fifteen hours ago. A meeting of the senior crew has determined we will continue our journey back to Earth, taking all measures we can to preserve the safety of this ship and it’s crew while continuing to make investigations into the planet and it’s previous encounters with other planets to determine whether the threats made to myself and the away team are credible. Meanwhile, the toll from the attack on this ship has risen by two. Time is of the essence to return to Earth quickly and safely without any further losses. The mood on the ship can best be described as sombre and still._

Liam puts his communicator down on the desk beside him, stands up and walks across to his bed.

He should lie down, he should shut his eyes. He should try to rest.  

He should see if he can turn back time to reverse all of this, to not even sign up for the Academy.

Except, he knows, even if given a chance, he’d do it all again and most likely the same way, every single time.

He’s definitely insane, and Einstein was right.  

It’s the middle of the night, and he’s technically off-shift.  Trying to avoid the questions from Niall, trying to be on his best behaviour so Niall doesn’t hypo-spray him to within an inch of his life.

He can’t rest.  Too much is rushing around in his brain, too much uncertainty and too many ‘what if’s.’

Two new ‘Your son was an example to us all, I’m sorry for your loss’ communications to try to show sincerity and covey the loss each and every one of the people onboard feels.  

And wondering all the time if they’ve made the right choice. Wondering if the man on Ostara was just someone flexing his muscles or if what felt like a declaration of war comes with violence.

It’s tempting to go up the bridge now and demand they go to warp.  

Liam never ran from anything or anyone in his life and Einstein was definitely right.  

He consoles himself with the fact that it’s not his decision alone.  That his senior crew are in total agreement.

He knows that going home is the only option.  The closer they are, then if the worst happens, the sooner they can be helped or limp home.

‘The worst?’  

Funny how you can go from an attack on the ship that is still ending lives and could have ended his own, very nearly  _did_ , to thinking something even worse could happen.

What could be worse?

Liam doesn’t even want to think about it. He’s too wired to stop thinking about it though.

Four times he’s started the message to home in the event of his death, and four times he’s stopped.

And not just because he doesn’t know where to start, but he doesn’t even know who’d care anyway?  

Would anyone even listen?  

He looks back over at the desk, contemplates starting the letters to the families of the two they lost, but he can’t do it yet.  

He can’t stay here either he decides, and he can’t go up to the bridge yet. Well, of course, he  _could_ , but Niall’s Payne-only tractor-beam would probably blare all around the ship if he set within even twenty feet of it before he’s next due on shift.

His knuckles are still red from the damage he’d done to the punching bag in the gym earlier, so he crosses that off the list too.

The holodeck is offline and under repair for now, and he’s not hungry. Even the thought of the  _smell_  of food makes him nauseous.

He’s walking in the direction of where his mind concludes he should go before he can stop it.

And for some reason even when he realises where he’s going, he doesn’t stop himself. He doesn’t turn around and force himself to lie on his bed and count up to three million sheep if that’s what it would take.  

No,  _this_  is the definition of insanity, Professor Einstein.

\--

Liam  _does_  almost turn around and walk back to his own quarters when he arrives outside the door.

Instead, he lifts up a hand to knock, except he doesn’t need to as the door whooshes open.

“Hey, Liam.”

“How did you—?”

“Mum used to say my ears were as good as a dog’s in terms of hearing stuff from ages away. And you’ve got very distinctive footsteps.”

Liam’s eyes quickly dart from blinking at Zayn who’s not wearing the familiar uniform or at least not the top half of it but instead wearing a red sweater, to his own feet, and then back again to Zayn who’s smiling and then shrugs.

“It’s one of my quirks.you’ll get used to it.”

There’s a voice in Liam’s head saying ‘I certainly bloody hope I get the chance to get used to it.’ And he’s about to say something like that, or perhaps with more of a positive way of saying it, when he sees what Zayn’s doing and he takes a step closer, then another till he’s looking over Zayn’s shoulder.

“You didn’t say you could draw.”

“You didn’t ask, Liam.”

There’s no sting in what Zayn says though, it’s just a fact and Liam hadn’t asked. In fact, thinking about it now there’s a lot that Liam doesn’t know about Zayn. And more, much, much more Zayn doesn’t know of Liam.

So why does he feel like he’s known him all his life?

Even in the first weeks, the days that seem like they were so innocent looking back now, he hadn’t asked Zayn too much.

Sure, he knows Zayn’s from Bradford, he knows Zayn has a close relationship with his parents and siblings, knows Zayn loves comic books like him, loves the same type of music too. But beyond that?

He can put that right. At least he has the chance.

Except, his eye looks closer to what Zayn’s drawing and for a moment, he feels the chill again. The chill from the moment they landed.

“You’re drawing Ostara?”

Zayn nods. “Yeah, sometimes I do this and it helps. It helps me visualise places I’m a bit confused about, or people too. There can be details I hadn’t even realised I’d registered that come out only when I’m drawing.”

“And?”

“I haven’t finished yet, but nothing so far. I feel like I’m close. I feel like there’s something so obvious we’re missing.”

“That, or that bloke was just an egocentric arsehole.”

“Funny that, that seems like the best case scenario we could wish for right now.”

Funny’s the last way Liam would describe it and he knows Zayn means it in the ironic sense, but even so. And Zayn’s right, there’s something so obvious that they’ve not yet discovered about Ostara.

The longer it goes on without realising it though, the more tense Liam feels. Though somehow knowing that Zayn’s as restless as him, as eager to find out the truth, it’s not surprising, he’s the science officer and Liam’s second in command, but it’s comforting.

A way of knowing he’s not losing it, or if he is then at least insanity, as well as misery, loves company.

Liam watches as Zayn continues to sketch in pencil and then from a case next to him on the desk in the corner of Zayn’s quarters, he pulls out different colours, choosing the right ones each time that makes the drawing feel like Liam could step into it now and he’d be back there.

“Do you ever draw Liam?”

A memory of being sat up in the room next to the telescope drawing the sky, mapping out the stars and the spaceship he dreamed one day he’d work on springs to his mind.

The memory always makes him smile but just like always, it’s pursued by the accompanying memories and he needs to chase them away somehow.

“Yeah, a little bit,” he replies.

Zayn looks up at him, grins and then placing one of the colouring pencils down, he reaches underneath the drawing he’s doing and pulls out a piece of paper and then picks out a spare pencil from the case and hands them to Liam.

“Go for it. If you’re anything like me tonight, or anytime, even when you’ve a purpose like this drawing I’m doing, it still soothes me.”

Liam stares down at the paper and then up towards Zayn who smiles at him encouragingly.

“Just give it a go, yeah.”

There’s always been this uncertainty, this insecurity about Liam that wars with the confidence that’s got him to the point where he’s Captain of a ship so young.

Something that makes him naturally cautious around people he’s not known for years. He covers it up well he thinks, but the closer he gets to people, especially if it’s just one other person, the more he wants to take a step back, wants to walk away for fear of being made a fool of or doing it to himself.  

The funny thing is that Liam doesn’t know why really, he can’t even explain it, but he thinks Zayn could suggest he takes a walk out of the ship without oxygen and an ‘it’ll be fine Liam’ and somehow he trusts that it would be.

Feels like he’s already walked this path with Zayn a million times before and yet he hasn’t.

So why does it feel like this?

He looks around the room and there’s a small seat next to the window with a cushion on it. Liam’s seen pictures of houses back in the 19th and 20th centuries of homes with ceilings as high as a couple of giraffes stacked on top of each other and window seats as cosy as can be that looked out onto large gardens or breathtaking views.

Here and now, it’s another kind of view altogether. No less breathtaking, and he walks over to it, sits down, adjusting the cushion so it’s behind him and waits, for a moment till he looks behind him and out the window, maybe he should try and draw the sky again, space up close.

The Liam in that telescope room would have given everything for this now.  

He doesn’t though and instead he looks around the room, his eyes settling on Zayn. Zayn who when he concentrates, his eyes narrow, he bites his lips, he smiles to himself as he stops for just a second to take stock of what he’s just drawn and nods quickly before he carries on.

What was it Zayn said?  

‘I do this and it helps, it helps me visualise places I’m a bit confused about or people too, there can be details I hadn’t even realised I’d registered that come out only when I’m drawing.’

For one moment too long, Liam thinks he’ll draw Zayn, but instead he commits the thought to memory, knows it’s too soon, hopes he won’t regret it.

And to make sure he doesn’t, he lifts one leg up, foot resting on the edge of the seat and the paper propped against his knee and he starts to draw.

And draw.

And draw.

He forgot how free it makes him feel, he forgets how lost he gets. If Liam could observe himself, he knows he’s probably a mirror image of Zayn when he’s drawing.

The small nods of satisfaction, the dialogue in his head or the one part of his brain that’s been unlocked again.

He feels like a kid in a sweetshop till he stops and stares at what he’s done.

“I forgot how nice it is to see other people drawing. I forgot about the enjoyment I got from seeing it.”

Liam feels his cheeks redden, lifts his eyes upwards to meet Zayn’s, for a moment convinced he’ll see some kind of mocking, but of course, he doesn’t.

It’s Zayn.  

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”  Zayn starts to laugh as soon as he’s said it.

Laugh? More like a giggle and it’s infectious and Liam shakes his head but soon he’s giggling too.

It feels like a release. Till he looks back at the drawing. Psychiatrists would have a field day he thinks.

He surprises himself when he stands up and walks back over to where Zayn’s still sat and surprises himself one step further when he places it on the desk next to Zayn’s drawing.

Zayn’s low whistle surprises him.

“You’re good, like really good, I won’t ask you what it means but.”

“It’s just…a kid who’s got it all on the surface but then it’s not all as it seems.”

He feels Zayn’s eyes on him and on second thoughts, perhaps drawing was a terrible idea after all.

“Yeah?”

The prompt for Liam to say more is obvious, and for a moment he thinks he’ll respond like it’s the most natural thing for him to spill everything, to unleash a childhood’s worth of angst on this man he barely knows.  

He opens his mouth to speak, to start because even if it’s not the right time, and he knows that try as he might he could never ‘unleash’ anything about his life back then, it could help. But trauma’s a funny thing, disassociating yourself from it all and making flippant jokes instead is difficult to unpick.

Impossible even.

“It’s just about some film I saw when I was a kid. One of those films they used to do back centuries ago where it was all about misery, and shit families, and that.”

He fixes on his most ‘defy me and doubt if you dare’ expressions on his face, hopes Zayn misses the way Liam can’t look at him properly for the first time.

Too bad Zayn’s the Communications expert on this ship as well.  

It’s a staring contest for too long and Zayn’s eyes say they want to ask more but no words come out. He nods slowly instead, then as though he’s choosing his words carefully he says, “You should tell me about that film one day, Liam. I’d be interested to hear about it. I know it goes on, I don’t live in some fantasy world that everyone had it easy. So yeah, when you’re ready, tell me all about it.”

“Thank you.”

Liam knows it makes no sense to say that if it were just a film. He knows Zayn knows this and he’s beyond grateful that Zayn doesn’t push it, and he seizes the moment to change the subject and gestures towards Zayn’s drawing.

“So, I feel like I could almost step into your drawing, and I’d be back there, it’s so good.”

“Thanks. This type of drawing never used to be my scene you know? I was more into graffiti and stuff, but then I went to the academy and realised pretty soon that it wouldn’t go down too well, me graffiti-ing stuff all over Starfleet Headquarters, so I started practicing. Still not brilliant like but.”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

“The bit about graffiti-ing or?”

Liam rolls his eyes. “You know exactly what I mean.”

“Yeah, I do,” admits Zayn, but he looks completely unapologetic. “King of Linguistics me.”

There’s something about the way Zayn’s tongue pokes out slightly from between his teeth, something that makes him look less like the commander of a ship limping its way back to Earth, and more like a kid sat back at home messing around with his mates or—

Liam shakes his head at his thoughts and shuts his brain down at the point of the ‘or’  because really, if he’s not careful he could end up thinking then, even worse, doing something stupid one day.  

“Anyway, you discovered anything you hadn’t noticed at the time?”

Zayn looks from Liam back to the drawing as if that’ll help and then back to Liam.

“Nope. Which is weird ‘cause something feels so obvious, just can’t put my finger on it. Just know that things don’t feel like they seem on the surface you know? Like you said about that film.”

“I think you’re right, I just can’t figure out how little we know about it. How he wouldn’t give us his name. I looked back in old records and there’s so few cases where that happens, so few missions, even the bad guys are usually falling over themselves to tell us who they are.”

“Were Starfleet any use?”

Liam’s smile is wry and Zayn’s laugh is short.

“Figures.”

“Ah, maybe we should sleep on it. Maybe a good night’s sleep,”  Liam looks at his watch, “Well, three hours anyway could make all the difference.”

“I will if you will,” challenges Zayn.

“Hope you like caffeine then.”

It wasn’t meant to be Zayn’s cue to stand up, go to the replicator and get them both a coffee, but he does it anyway.

Liam doesn’t mind a bit, he could get used to this.

He could get to the point where he needs it, and that’s risky, not just because of his and Zayn’s roles, not just because there are times, like now, where he’s sat on the window seat sipping his coffee while Zayn sits at his desk and does the same.

And he can scarcely bring himself to take his eyes away from Zayn. He’s getting less shy about showing that too.  

It’s risky and it’s scary how much Liam wants to cross the room and…

What he doesn’t know, and that’s risky and scary cause maybe all he wants is to be nearer to Zayn. But then being nearer may not be enough.

It’s never been like this before. It’s always been rushes of lust, moments that felt right, that turn into minutes of awkwardness and making excuses, and yet here he is, feeling like being anywhere else would be the only thing that’s wrong right now.

And he can’t bring himself to min—

He’s standing up, and he spills a bit of the coffee he stands up so fast and  _fuck_ , is he really going to march on over and kiss Zayn? Cause well, okay, but also really fucking shit idea right now in the middle of a crisis Payne.

“Things aren’t always what they seem on the surface? That’s what you said, right?”

Give Zayn his due, he only looks confused for a moment.

“Yeah, pretty much. Though you said it first.”

Liam reaches down and picks up the drawing, staring at it as though it’ll come to life, as though whatever his brain is telling him will come to life, be confirmed or something.

He shakes his head and thrusts the drawing back towards Zayn who eyes him curiously.

“I remember reading about something, or maybe it was a film. Now I think about it I’m not sure if it was a real thing, but a planet who had this way of transforming itself, a planet almost like a chameleon, and no one knew of it, till it was too late.”

Liam turns away, walks toward the window seat and shakes his head.

“This is too much caffeine, right? Too much watching shitty old sci-fi movies right? Lack of sleep which incidentally if you tell Niall about this I’ll kill you.”

He expects to see Zayn smile, expects to hear Zayn suggest gently that he should go to bed, should get sleep and definitely not have any more replicator coffee till he does.

Instead, he hears the beep of the screen and as he turns back towards Zayn, he sees his fingers fly across the screen.

“Definitely not a film, there was a planet that was called Cochurn and a small ship was called to it, their Captain disappeared, then several other crew members did, one by one till there were four left and one person out of a crew of eighty made it home.”

Liam feels sick, the churning of his stomach and the way he can feel his hands tremble slightly do nothing to ease the growing if he’s honest, terror and confusion and fury.

“And Cochurn?” Liam asks as he approaches Zayn’s side, and he could just peer over him to see the truth, to see what he knows he’d read if he looked.

“Never seen before, never seen since.” Zayn’s lips are set in a grim line now.

“Till Ostara.”

Zayn looks up at him and Liam wants to touch him, almost needs it to ground him to make the fear seem less.

“How though? How do they do it? Who are they?”

Liam knows Zayn can’t answer it.

He peers over Zayn’s shoulder, sees the information on the screen and then sees the musical note that denotes an audio file, and without thinking twice, he presses it.

_Acting Captain’s Log stardate 2213.59 - I don’t know who will hear this but it’s just me and Ensign Halliwell now. We have no way of knowing if one or both of us will make it. Halliwell won’t talk of what she saw on the planet but she came back with third-degree burns consistent with excessive heat and prolonged exposure to the sun, and yet she and the now deceased Security Chief Massolo were only there for ten minutes. Whatever it was, whoever it was, it’s decimated this crew and I—– well, we’re scared. We’re just scared. I’m sorry._

Liam doesn’t move for the longest time, or that’s how it feels. He doesn’t know what to say and when he finally does move, he can see the way Zayn’s jaw twitches, the way his eyes are red-rimmed now and not just with tiredness.

‘We’re just scared. I’m sorry’ won’t leave his brain. He looks down at the drawing, across the room at his own and it all feels so silly, so pointless and unhelpful.

If he was to do a captain’s log right now, if he was in any way capable of being honest and if he was on his own, he would admit it too.  

“The question is, is it linked to the attack on us, or is it something else entirely? Just random bad luck.”

Zayn’s voice is flat, except on the word ‘random,’ there’s a hint of bitterness, a hint of what the fuck is going on and why are we, a new ship, with a new crew, out here like sitting ducks.

Why didn’t anyone in Starfleet put two and two together?  

Liam sits down on the bed for just a moment, head in his hands, trying to measure his next move, conscious that every move from now on is vital. One misstep and they could be like the SS Galaxy.

Could be.

Cause Cochurn/Ostara, a winter like planet or a scorched earth type planet, Klingons, Romulans or just a bunch of psychos or whatever, they haven’t encountered Liam yet, nor Zayn.

Nor any of them, and that has to count for something.

He hopes.

“Do you want me to gather the senior crew together Captain?”  Zayn asks.

Liam’s grateful for the shift in tone, for the way that Zayn is quickly pulling off his sweater and putting on his uniform again.

“Yeah. Then I’ll do a ship-wide announcement. It’s time we were honest. If Starfleet can’t be, we need to be able to be honest with each other at least.”

Zayn nods, small smile signaling his agreement or approval, and Liam doesn’t care which, he needs both right now.

He raises himself off the side of the bed and walks towards the door before he turns around.

“The honesty begins with us first, Malik, you have the science, you know the way to communicate, and I know I do too, but I can’t do this alone.”

Zayn’s there in front of him now, all business except there’s a softness to his eyes that wasn’t there a moment or two back.

Then he’s squeezing Liam’s shoulder and it’s good, but it’s bad because of why and it reminds him of his dad when he was a kid, so so long ago when being a kid was fun.

“You won’t be alone Captain, you won’t.”

Liam believes him. He has to.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always to Tricia who edited this so fast so at least gramatically it can make so much more sense and for her reassurance. 
> 
> This chapter in Zayn's POV.

The bridge is studied quiet, aside from the low murmur of voices, the atmosphere tense.  

It’s been like that since Liam came onto the bridge thirty-five minutes ago, ten minutes or so after he’d given the ship-wide announcement.

That they were quite possibly fucked, or maybe they weren’t.  But they need to get back to Earth fast because Ostara/Cochurn/whatever the hell it’s called is dangerous.

And they’re limping home as it is, not just in ship terms.  

The meeting of the senior crew had gone about as well as it could’ve. The range of emotions as they’d listened to the acting captain of the SS Galaxy’s last log clear to see, and the fact that listening to it again had nothing to ease the fear, the apprehension growing within Zayn.

Made it worse if anything.

An acceptance in all of them that the safest thing to do right now was get to Earth. Dock this ship, ask about a million and one questions and hope they got a straight answer to even just one, all without losing one more crew member.  

The way Niall’s lip had set into a grim line at that wish of Liam’s adding to a sense of inevitability Zayn feels now that it’s impossible to avoid more bloodshed, more grief.

It comes to something when Zayn just hopes any losses are from the attack before and not anything new but here and now as Zayn looks around the bridge, looks at the faces - some of who he’s still getting used to but tries to store them just in case, it almost feels like it’s not really a just in case but actually a matter of when.

As his gaze settles on Liam’s and he finds Liam’s returning it, the half-hearted attempt at a smile dying on his lips, he realises, knows, Liam feels the same.

He turns away, walks back to the screen.  The screen that should be taking up his attention if this had all been normal.  The data contained on it useful, integral to his roles.

The science and the words that he’d planned to study, to devour, to be able to look at new life, learn new languages when the only words that come to his head now are a combination of ‘oh shit’ and ‘oh fuck’.

He forces himself to focus on the screen, runs data analysis on anything and everything he’s been able to find out so far about Cochurn, hardly any, and Ostara, nothing.

He listens over and over to the acting captain of the galaxy’s last log.  For clues, for inflection in his voice.

For any hint of interference, any sign of duress other than the stress/terror the man was clearly feeling.  

Every single time, Zayn learns nothing new except a wish and a prayer that he hopes neither he or anyone on this ship who will have to make this type of log soon, or ever.

Eventually, he tears his head away from the screen in front of him and peers over to the chair, but Liam’s not sat there.  

Instead, he’s deep in conversation with Higgins.  They’re both stood directly behind Harry and Louis.

They look serious.  Higgins looks worried and shakes his head a lot and Zayn could walk across, listen in.  After all, Harry and Louis are privy to whatever’s being said but instead, he watches.

Watches the way Liam’s posture is tense.  How he’s chewing his lip, while worrying at one sleeve of his tunic with the fingertips of his other hand. All tell-tale signs of nerves and yet he still looks like he’s born for this.  This very moment, this level of stress.   Like that stress of all of this is making him look and seem ten-foot tall rather than shrinking or cowing him.

Soon Liam’s lifting the hand worrying at the sleeve to pat Higgins’ back, smiling and nodding as he does and then leaning in to speak to Louis.

Louis who listens intently, nodding before his hands fly over the controls as Liam then speaks to Harry who nods too.  

“I’ll make it work.  I’ll make sure the ship gets us home,”  Higgins says loud enough so that everyone on the bridge can hear.

Before he turns away and walks through the doors and away from the bridge.

Zayn’s attention is focused on that so he doesn’t notice Liam approaching him straightaway, then Liam’s pulling him away from the people working close to them.

Closer to the turbolift where it’s quieter and then Liam’s whispering, his breath warm on Zayn’s neck, but the words…

“I hate lying to the crew.  I thought for a second about lying to you.  I know for a fact that the ship is in no fit state to get us back to Earth quickly if anything comes after us.  Harry and Louis, even Paul don’t have to know that. It’s amazing what the placebo effect can do for morale though right?”

Liam draws away from Zayn then.  

“You know what the placebo effect is right?”

Zayn would normally roll his eyes but instead, he nods and in a low voice.

“Something that won’t work or have little effect but on a group of people, if they believe it enough it can improve things.  Change a mindset from a lost cause to something to keep going for.”

“Exactly. I spoke to him just after senior crew, he told me the shape the ship was in and that going to warp could break us, we can go pretty fast but just not really have the capability to switch it up.”

“The crew’ll realise eventually.”

Liam nods, then with a grim smile, he replies.

“I mean, there’s nothing I’d like better than for them to be in a position to realise.  For them to be in any fit state to think ‘the captain lied, how do I react to that’.  It's infinitely preferable for them to hate me than-.”

Liam doesn’t need to finish the sentence, then even quieter he adds, hand going to his neck, almost shy suddenly.

“Sorry if it this puts you in an awkward position, Zayn. I just needed to share it, I dunno, probably shouldn’t have.”

“I’d be more worried if you hadn’t not that I’d have known but I’m your number 2.  Things like this I want you to share with me.”

“Number 2, yeah, s’right.”

The look that flashes across Liam’s face is so brief Zayn’s sure he got it wrong, misread it somehow.

Then Liam straightens.  

“Thank you, Commander,” and then he’s walking away saying, “Styles, how’s it going?”

All business and as Zayn thinks of that look, the flash of what looked like disappointment on Liam’s face, Zayn can’t help but feel like he’s messed something up.

\--

“Lights on,” Zayn says as he walks into his quarters, and shrugs out of his tunic, throwing it towards the back of a chair not looking to see if it lands.

He shrugs on the t-shirt that’s laid out on his bed and then rubs at his eyes before he walks over to his desk, he turns on the screen and sits on the chair in front of it.  

It’s late here, he’s back on duty in a few hours though thinks he’ll head back sooner.  He knows that Liam’s pulling a double shift.

Someone has to keep an eye on him and make sure he doesn’t exhaust himself in pursuit of trying to keep the crew focused and optimistic while inside he’s in turmoil.

Liam told him for a reason.  And not just because he needed to say it.  Zayn has to share the burden.

Just not until he’s done this.  

His hands fly over the keyboard and he presses a button on the screen.  Estimates the time and then presses one more button.

The ringing tone goes on for long enough without response that Zayn almost gives up, but then he hears a breathless voice yelling before he sees the face on the screen.

“IT’S ALRIGHT MUM I’VE GOT IT.  IT’S HIM, IT’S HIM.”

She’s grown so much.  That’s what overwhelms Zayn first.  That’s what has him welling up.

She’s smiling, his youngest sister beaming at him.

“We’ve just got back from the shops two minutes ago.  Mum’s had to go to the toilet, been desperate from the moment we started the journey home.  She’ll be here in a minute. I thought you weren’t supposed to get in contact with us?”

Zayn goes to open his mouth, trying to find an excuse for phoning without saying the truth but then he hears another voice.

“That’s right Saf, he isn’t.  What’s going on, Zayn?”

“Hello, mum.”

The serious expression falls from his mum’s face and she smiles.  The smile that’s always comforted Zayn.  

“Hello my sunshine,” then the smile’s gone and she whispers something to Safaa who pulls a face but then nods, blows a kiss yelling ‘I love you Zaynie’ and then she’s gone.

“You look tired, love.”

Zayn shrugs. “There are a lot of double shifts in space, mum, we knew that.”

“Yeah, but there’s more to it.  I know there is.”

“How’s dad?  And Doni and Wali, and you?  Is everyth—”

“Zayn Javadd Malik, I’ve known you your entire life.  I know when you’re hiding something and even though I know we’ve never had a conversation like this before.  I know what goodbyes look like.  Tell me I’m wrong and I’ll be so relieved, but I’m not am I?”

Zayn looks away from the screen, down towards his fingers, then to look out the windows. Anywhere but at his mum except that’s ridiculous cause if this is goodbye then he needs to look at her, have every part of that face that’s always been something to reassure him, comfort him, seared on his consciousness and in his mind.  

He doesn’t realise he’s crying till a single drop falls onto the keyboard and he wipes at them before he mumbles the words that he wants to grab hold of and force back into his mouth again so his mum doesn't have to hear them, so he doesn’t have to see how she flinches at the words.

“‘M scared, mum.”

His mum’s quiet for a moment, moisture gathering in the corner of her eyes so clear and she takes a shaky breath.

“Do you remember that time you were getting picked on and we were saying we’d come to school and talk to the staff, help you, and you said yes right up until the point you changed your mind and said no, and that knowing we were there with you in mind and spirit was enough to stop you being scared, make you feel confident in dealing with the bullies?  I know bullies aren’t anything like whatever it is you’re facing now but maybe?”

“Not maybe mum, definitely.”  He means it, his mum’s always had that power.  It’s what mum’s do.

Should do.

Thing is, it helps but it doesn't change anything.  The people on the Galaxy probably had mums who helped them, comforted them, made them feel like they were invincible right up till the moment they took their last breath.

At least it makes him feel less alone.  

“What are people like there?” she asks.

He thinks of everyone, thinks of those they’ve lost, thinks of the friends he’s made. Thinks of brown eyes.  Hesitant smiles and that flash of disappointment and regret.

“Brave, mum, they’re so brave.”

She smiles, “Just like you then, love.”

He’s about to argue when his communicator beeps and it forces all the emotions to the surface.

“I have to go mum, tell Dad I love him, tell the girls I love them.  I love you so much, mum. Thanks for never doubting all this.”

His mum places her hand on the screen and Zayn does the same, shuts his eyes briefly as his mum says simply, “You can tell them yourself when you get home. You will get home.”

The screen cuts out just as the ship rocks heavily from side to side and his communicator beeps again before he hears: “Commander Malik to Bridge, Commander Malik to bridge immediately.”

He almost leaves his quarters with his t-shirt still on but remembers just in time then every step he takes closer to the bridge, he thinks of his mum’s final words to him.

And hopes they aren’t the last he’ll hear from her in his lifetime.

\--

As he steps onto the bridge, it’s entirely different from before.  The studied quiet has given away to tension you could with a cut with a knife as Zayn walks across to where Liam’s sat on his chair, leaning forward.

“Captain?”

“Commander, sorry to cut your break short, there’s some kind of anomaly that keeps repeating itself. We keep getting struck with what appear to be energy bursts and then it dies away. It’s like someone’s communicating with us or trying to or at least trying to get our attention.”

“Any damage to the ship?”

“Minor but we can’t afford even minor damage really.”

“What are your instincts, Captain?”

Liam’s silent for a moment, looks away from Zayn as though he’s trying to make a decision, does a nod that if Zayn had blinked he’d have missed and then looks back up at Zayn.

“Not good.  If it was for the good then why not communicate normally?  Why not hail us?  Instead, we get this which is enough to unsettle us all.  It’s like...I dunno, I feel like I’m going to sound paranoid.”

“Not without reason, Captain.  Look at what’s happened, the attacks on this ship, the attempted murder of you, Ostara, I think we’ve all earned the right to question everything.”

Liam stands up, nods and then pulls Zayn by the arm towards the turbo lift again. Zayn can feel the crew on the bridge’s eyes following them.  

Then Liam’s whispering again, breath warm against Zayn’s neck and ear again.

“What if Ensign Tanner wasn’t the only one on this ship with motives that aren’t good?  What if someone on this ship is their eyes?  What if we’re walking into a trap?”

Liam’s breath is warm but Zayn feels chilled by every single word.

And he wants to tell Liam he’s wrong. Wants to tell Liam that there’s no way anyone else could be a traitor but then as Liam pulls away and Zayn looks around, looks at every single person on the bridge and the people who are looking at him and Liam avert their eyes as soon as Zayn makes eye contact with them, it makes sense.

Too much sense.

Zayn turns back to face Liam.

“Okay, but how do we even attempt to f—”

The ship rocks suddenly and Zayn falls to the ground, the air knocked from him for a moment as he lands heavily before a hand pulls him upwards and he hears Liam murmur ‘You okay?” and he nods in response before he follows Liam to where his captain stands just in front of his chair as other members of the bridge crew help the ones who’d fallen too.

“Damage report engineering?”

Nothing.

“Damage report engineering?”

Zayn crosses to his station, presses buttons.  Nothing.

“Tomlinson?” he hears Liam say.

“Everything’s offline, nothing is working, it’s like the ship’s ground to a halt.”  

Then it’s silence, a silence which is deafening. Suffocating till Liam breaks it.  His voice steady but with an underlying tone of something that sounds a little like fear.  

Zayn knows how he feels.

“Okay, well, we may not be moving but at least the ship is intact for now or no worse than before.”

“Just not under our control, Captain,” Harry says, Louis shooting a warning glare in his direction.

“No, Tomlinson, Styles is right,  Are shields up at least?”

“They’re at ten percent, Captain,” Louis replies.

Not nearly enough if something big is about to happen.  

“Okay, then let’s tr—”

Their view changes with a burst of light and it stops Liam mid-sentence and he’s about to speak some more when the view changes again, and a face appears.

A face that three people on the bridge recognise.

“Holy fuck, isn’t that?”  Louis says

Liam takes a step forward and Zayn takes steps nearer to him, to be next to him, or at least be close enough to be a presence to reassure Liam, give him the backup that a second-in-command should give.

And maybe something more besides that which doesn’t even matter right now.  

The man just stares.

“What do you want with us?  Why are you here?” Liam asks, then adds, “Do you need our help?”

The man’s expression changes and Zayn clenches his fists, tensing.

“We’ve been through this before, you and your people always interfering. Don’t forget, I could ask the same question of you, Captain, why are you here?  As for the final question, your help? Why yes, that will prove very useful.”

Smiles should be warm.  Smiles should be comforting.  Smiles should be filled with love.  Smiles shouldn’t chill Zayn or make his legs feel as though they’re made of dust, ready to collapse from under him in a moment from the sudden feeling of apprehension and fear.

Smiles should be like his mum’s, or well, Liam’s.  

Liam who, despite the fact that he sounds scared, tense and is basically showing everything Zayn feels, manages a smile.

“Good then, how can we he—”

It’s like Zayn’s conscious, then suddenly he’s in some other world where he’s absolutely not,   and yet he can feel his own heartbeat thudding in his chest.  

He doesn’t hear Liam finish his sentence and as he blinks his eyes open, there’s a sharp pain in his head that has him groaning.  

He looks around him, figures he must be dreaming.  Or in some kind of nightmare, his fingertips touch the ground in whatever this world is and then pull away fast at the temperature.

The temperature that burns his fingertips not from heat but from cold.  It’s absolutely not the ship and he pinches his skin and it’s dark but not so dark that he doesn’t see it turn a different colour momentarily nor does he wake up back on the ship.

Instead, he stays on the ground where it’s cold, so cold and he realises he’s in a room, a room that’s sparse, just him and two raised areas that look like they could be beds but no blankets and nothing else.

And there’s a door, a door that looks like it’s made of iron or some kind of metal.  A door that when Zayn stands up, looking down at himself and notices he’s still wearing his uniform minus his communicator, and walks over to realise he can’t open, has no way of opening.

He hears voices then, or actually just one voice and footsteps that echo from beyond the door and then the door flies open and Zayn takes another step backward, judging that right now its best to see what happens before he starts planning an escape attempt from wherever this place is.  

Except all thoughts of that disappear as something is thrown through the door and lands heavily, a pained gasp escaping it and Zayn realises it’s a person.

A person who doesn’t move, he goes to move towards them when a voice stops him.

“Captain Payne proved rather reticent to help us.  We had to reinforce what happens when people promise things and don’t deliver.  You must let him reflect on that or it won’t be good for either of you, Commander.  His arrogance will diminish soon, and so will yours, so will each one of your crew’s arrogance until you have nothing left, maybe then your planet will learn.”

“Who the fuck are you?”

The man’s expression changes to that smile again and Zayn wants to vomit at the contradiction between an expression like this that should be kind and yet, what Zayn feels certain is the smile of someone so far away from good and god knows what else in front of him.

“All in good time, Commander, not now but soon, very soon.”

Zayn, a man who always thought he was a pacifist, who just wanted the opportunity to explore what lay beyond his immediate surroundings, wants to beat the crap out of him. Wants to try to escape right now and in reality, it should be easy as all Zayn can see is this one man, no one else, and he could just scoop Liam over his shoulder and get the fuck out of here.

Instead, he stands and watches as the man walks away.  Like he’s frozen.  

Then the door slams and Zayn moves quickly to Liam’s side. Liam who has one tiny cut near his hairline but other than doesn’t have a scratch on him and yet he’s out cold.  

Zayn wonders if it’s just him and Liam wherever they are or whether they’re the next SS Galaxy.  Whether someone on the ship is alone or one of two or three.  Wonders who betrayed them.

He thinks back to what feels like it should be just a matter of a couple of hours but is it?  He doesn’t know.

He tries to remember his mum’s words but all he can think of is fear, of Liam being next to him but feeling so alone.  

And all the while, he wonders how on earth is he going to end this, fix it and wipe the smile off the man from Ostara’s face and take away the danger he represents from Zayn’s life and the lives of everyone he cares about.  

Quickly, before it’s too late.

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Liam’s POV. Also included is a flashback. 
> 
> The names of the places are partly my own ideas but also the use of a great little website that has planet generators and names of people and places. It is my new favourite thing. Also for nerd purposes, in 2298 when this is set, velocities at Warp 10 and over were considered unsafe.
> 
> Thank you to Tricia for your edit/beta and support as always. x

“Eight quid for chips?  What’s the world coming to?”

Liam cracks open one eye and peers up in the direction of the voice, just in time for a chip to fall into his lap.

A chip that he stares at as though it’s a piece of gold, costs almost as much as one to them anyway, eight quid may as well be the same price.

He places it in his mouth ready to savour every second that it’s there but then screws up his face in disgust and spits it out on the ground in front of him.

“Salt?  Bloody salt?  You know too much salt is bad for you?  You know salt makes us thirstier and we struggle enough to get our hands on water.”

“So? We just go to the river and get some water just like we have for the last few weeks, come on Liam chill out.”

Archie pats Liam’s shoulder as he sits down next to him on the ground, legs out in front of him and offers Liam another chip.

“It's not as though we eat enough for salt to make our hearts unhealthy or anything? Plus I reckon not eating is more unhealthy.”

It’s a good point. He glances across to Archie.  Archie with his ginger hair, bright green eyes, and a crooked grin.  Archie, who just like Liam is underweight for their age. Scrawny and too pale.  Exhausted too.

Too exhausted for a pair of teenagers.  Too cynical, though Liam would rather be like this than be as easily fooled as most people twice his age around here.  

He takes a chip and this time, he’s prepared for the taste. This time it’s not so bad and fills a tiny part of his stomach.  

They sit in silence finishing off the chips then Archie stands up, looks around him and then crouches down in front of Liam, chews on his lower lip, bites his fingernails and asks,

“It's gonna be cold tonight.  Do you reckon we should try?”

Liam knew he’d ask.  Been steeling himself for the question all day.  Almost gives in but he shakes his head.

“And if we get caught? Not worth it Archie, besides we can snuggle up together, didn’t bother you last night or the night before?”

Or the night before that, or the week before that and so on Liam doesn’t add, partly because he doesn’t think he needs to but also because the look on Archie’s face stops him.

He feels that familiar feeling of not wanting to upset someone else. The misgivings he has pushed to the side.

And he lifts his arm upwards, Archie holding his hand and smiling now as he pulls Liam up.

“Thank you,” he says and that smile of his, it’s perfect.  It’s the first thing he’d ever noticed about Archie.   He doesn’t smile enough so it dispels any other feelings Liam has for the moment and he throws an arm around him, pulling him closer, the rain starts to fall then so Liam takes his arm away and shouts ‘Race you’ as they run towards shelter, splashing into puddles, kicking the water at each other and laughing.

Closer to shelter and maybe a bit of warmth too.  Even with all the danger it brings.  

One hour later and Liam’s running again, through the building and down a flight of stairs that creak too loudly, except this time he doesn’t laugh, this time he hears Archie’s tearful breathless sobs as he tries to keep up with Liam.

Hears himself imploring Archie to try.

Hears a pained cry and the ground feels unsteady under his feet, there’s a noise that’s unfamiliar but he knows what it is and he needs to keep running.  Wants to grab hold of Archie and get the hell out of here.

Instead, he stops and turns slightly from where he stands on the staircase, the outside world and escape from where they should never have been just around the corner, to look at where Archie lies on the ground on the floor above him, face flushed, tears running down it, clutching onto his ankle just as the sound of feet hurrying nearer to him gets louder.

Archie sobs out one word but Liam shakes his head because he won’t or can’t. He’s frozen to the spot.  

As he hears them get nearer, he implores Archie to try and get up, the unfamiliar sound gets even louder and he watches confused at first then it’s like it happened in slow motion but also too fast for him to do anything.

The floor’s too unstable as they all reach him, grab at his best friend and then all Liam can see is dust, and all he can hear is a scream as the ground disappears from beneath Archie’s body and takes him and everyone next to him with him.

Liam knows he needs to get out of here too, the dust as the building collapses making it hard to breathe.

But there’s that scream again.  That scream that he realises as his throat hurts, even more, is his own.

That scream of one name.

“Archie!!!!”

Everything lost, and all for some shelter.

\--

“Captain—Liam, wake up, it’s okay.”

Something or someone is squeezing his arm and as he opens his eyes, he expects to see the same face he’d seen back then.

After.

The same look of professional concern that he’d run away from, unable to trust anyone.  

Instead, he sees Zayn.  Scarcely able to conceal his concern.

“You okay Captain?  Who’s Archie?”

Liam averts his eyes from Zayn’s gaze and mutters, “Doesn’t matter,” then after a beat and an attempt to keep his head up against the wall he’s realising he’s sat against that’s more difficult than it should be, he adds, looking at Zayn again, “What’s going on? Where are we?”

Zayn frowns.

“What do you remember?”

Good question really cause if he tries, Liam comes up blank. Just little snippets, being on the ship, his ship, and then being in a cell and then in another room, fleeting but excruciating pain, and something else he hadn’t expected.  

Not that he can remember what it is.   He screws his eyes shut, frantically trying to summon up memory, his eyes fly open again as fragments of memory return.

“It's him, isn’t it?  From Ostara and Cochurn.”

“Yeah, he’s been in twice since I’ve been awake.  Still no mention of his name, just vague threats. Said he’d back.”  Zayn’s quiet for a moment before hesitantly he adds, “Captain, gotta ask, did they torture you?”

Liam’s instinct is to say no. Sure he feels like he’s been dragged through several hedges backwards, forwards, sideways, but aside from a feeling of weariness and what feels like a paper cut type of discomfort on his forehead, he feels okay.  

He doesn’t feel like how it felt in Starfleet Academy.  In that week of training for officers.  Just in case.

He doesn’t think there was any of what was promised in that training.  He can’t remember anything but the bits of pain and whatever else it was that his brain fails to remind him of right now.

“No,” he says finally, “Or maybe yeah. I dunno. Something hurt and I can feel that hurt like it was a second ago if I think about it, but if I don’t it’s just like I’ve got a bad hangover.”

“Can you remember how many were there?  Was it just him or others?”

Liam shuts his eyes, tries to remember but this time even the pain doesn’t come back.  There’s nothing.  Not even a sliver of memory.

It’s disquieting.  

“Not a thing. I can barely remember a thing.”

Zayn frowns then with a smile that doesn’t travel anywhere close to his eyes and replies, “At least you weren’t seriously hurt.”

Liam likes people who think with their glasses half full.  Trouble is he’s pretty sure Zayn knows the glass is empty or just has a drop left.

Still, he appreciates it and so he offers a smile back at Zayn and then takes Zayn in fully where he’s crouched next to Liam.

His hair looks like Zayn’s been worrying at it for however long, he looks tired. Exhausted even, his uniform has specks of dirt across it but other than that he looks unhurt and as he rubs his hands together now, he looks cold.

Belatedly Liam realises he is too.

“They’ve not tried anything with you?”

He has to ask.  

Zayn shakes his head. “Nope, he’s come in twice like I said but other than that, not a dicky bird. Just me and this room which could do with a heater or two. Makes the Yorkshire Moors on a cold January night feel like the Bahamas must feel.”

“Or Piscium Bay,” Liam offers with a smile. “You know, if we ever get out of there, we should go there sometime.  It’s meant to be amazing.  Sand like fine crystal dust and a sea that’s so inviting and warm and soothing.”

Zayn’s eyes widen.

“Never figured you for a beach kind of guy, Captain.”

Liam holds up a finger.

“When it’s just us, stop with the Captain thing, it doesn’t feel right even though Admiral Thoran from the Academy would kill me if he knew.” At Zayn’s smile and nod of agreement, he continues, “Honestly though re the beach, me neither Zayn, but after these past weeks, lying down on a beach with a Cardassian Sunrise in my hand watching the world exist around me sounds idyllic.”

Zayn looks as though he’s about to respond when he shivers, rubs his hands together more vigorously this time then blows onto them, an unhappy expression set deep on his face.

“Come here, sit next to me. Not as cold as you yet so we may as well do what they say and share body heat.”

Zayn apparently doesn’t need asking twice as he shifts from the crouch next to Liam to sitting down next to him, his knees outstretched for a moment till he hugs them close.  

Liam sighs dramatically, shakes his head and then throwing his arm around Zayn, pulls him in closer.

“Someone didn’t pay attention in survival skills lessons then,” he chides goodnaturedly.  He feels the tension in Zayn’s body at first so he adds, “I mean, I feel warmer already, what about you?”

It’s tiny, the change that happens then but Liam feels Zayn relax, feels the small shivers subside to nothing.

“So, it’s the beach for me whenever we get some shore leave, ‘bout you?” Liam asks

“Home.”

Zayn shifts slightly, leans forward a bit and it’s immediately that bit colder but Liam doesn’t say a word, watches Zayn’s profile as his lips curve upwards and then he’s looking back at Liam for a moment, shy smile and a shrug of the shoulders. “I know I should say somewhere where I learn a bit more about culture, or learn a new language or go somewhere like The Luminous Highlands but home, just a homebody you know.  Love me family and you know, home’s got a smell that not even the best replicator food can produce or even the finest smelling flowers that any planet can reproduce.”

Zayn shrugs again as he leans backwards, and Liam shifts away slightly to give himself a chance to take in the way Zayn’s cheeks grow a little pinker with embarrassment he shouldn’t feel.

“Shore leave isn’t for anything other than recharging your batteries, Zayn, it’s to spend time with the people you love, especially if there’s been a risk that you never would again, the smell of your mum’s home cooked meals rather than replicated food over and over sounds great.”

Zayn nods in agreement then tapping his little finger gently on Liam’s knee, he asks, “How about you?  Who would you spend the time on that beach with? Archie, or?”

Liam winces, hoping it doesn’t show on his face.  Not just because of the mention of Archie but for the very fact, he has to stop and think.  Either invent something or someone or say the truth about Archie which’ll make Zayn feel like shit.

He opts for a little bit of sidestepping it all, a bit of humour he doesn’t truly feel but he’s expert enough to try.  

“After however long stuck on a ship with a load of people, no one feels like a spectacularly good idea,” at Zayn’s grimace, he hurriedly adds, “Well Niall’s always up for a bit of relaxing by the sea but then again, he’s pretty fond of home. No shortage of invites either to someone’s home or another planet altogether with people we met just once who’ve fallen for his charms, so yeah just me, the way I like it.”

Liam finds himself shifting awkwardly under Zayn’s gaze.  Notices the way Zayn opens his mouth a couple of times as though he’s about to say something but the words die on his lips.  

Till.

“We’ve always got a spare place at the dinner table, just saying like.”  Zayn’s smile is small, a little nervous maybe.

A mirror image of his own right now Liam thinks. Even if he doesn’t mean it, it’s enough to get Liam thinking, day-dreaming even though he should be thinking of ways of getting out of here.

He is of course constantly but his brain’s always been big enough to think of multiple things. Just this thing is new. Family, a conventional family at that.  Or more conventional than he’s known.

“Thanks, Zayn,” he says quietly and Zayn just nods and sits backwards again, both of them quiet now, thinking of ways to get out, thinking of what or who to get out of here for.

Liam with one more thing that he came in here with at least.

\--

“Alright, there’s such a thing as asking nicely.”

Liam’s eyes fly open at the intrusion of noise into his dreams.   Dreams he can’t remember now.

The door is open and Zayn’s already half-way out of it before Liam can push himself up from the ground, heavy-limbed, tired and cold.

“Where are you taking him?” He shouts as the door shuts and he’s left alone.  

He looks around him, feels like he does everything Zayn told him he’d done when he’d woken up here, had realised he was on his own.  Does it all with the certainty in his brain that it won’t yield a better result than Zayn got. Does it for interminable minutes till he sits down heavily against the wall again and waits.  There’s not a sound, it’s both comforting because at least it means that Zayn’s not being tortured maybe, and disquieting because it’s so quiet.

Quiet enough that Liam hears every breath he takes. Every sigh feels like it’s being played on a loudspeaker at a trillion decibels.

Eventually, he falls asleep again.  This time his dreams are fragmented, but asleep Liam thinks he needs to remember them.

Some fragments more useful than others, little flecks of colour and not just one face, but another.  Unfamiliar except not because it feels like it’s maybe a repetition of hours before. Of what he’d experienced.

Faces just staring at him, not saying a word. Silence again, but somehow more maddening.

Then it’s another part of his dream, and it’s a voice that he wouldn’t have been familiar with before, well, he’s not sure how long he’s been here, but the acting captain of the SS Galaxy isn’t someone he’d have been able to recite before recently but here he is in his head again.

In his dreams.

Then there’s the bridge of the ship. His ship, just him then someone steps into his line of vision and he thinks he says ‘You?’

Till there’s another thing.  A beach and the sun on his back as he lies on his chest on the sun lounger leans over and picks up the drink and sips at it while laughter bubbles around him, till a hand touches his shoulder and a familiar voice murmurs.

“Liam.”

Then nothing till another voice that’s not quite so familiar says.

“Captain, come now, come back.”

It’s a feeling of wading through treacle as he wakes then a sharp excruciating pain that has him breathing heavily through his mouth as he opens his eyes.

He’s not in the cell anymore and as he looks directly in front of him and then shifts his eyes left and then right, he’s not alone.

“Zayn?”

Zayn’s eyes are shut but as Liam calls his name, he opens them and Liam’s legs feel weak with relief.  It’s momentary when reality crashes back down on Liam and he notes the circular pads on either side of Zayn’s head and the wires connecting behind him to the column that Zayn’s held against.

Just like Liam.

“You okay?” Liam asks.

The fraction of a nod that’s combined with a shrug almost makes Liam smile, it’s so typically understated.

“Zayn and not Commander Malik? Interesting.”

Liam looks straight ahead now to the man who they don’t have a name for yet.  

“More interesting than the hours we’ve spent with each of you.”

Hours?   Liam thinks, wondering how long they’ve actually been here and as far as he knew Zayn had only been taken away once and now they were together?  

The man steps closer, closer than Liam remembers him being.  Close enough that Liam can see no sign of ageing, no sign of anything other than coldness in the man’s eyes.  

“Your training would appear to be better than the rest.  It’s disappointing but to be expected, you and your small tell then though Captain, it fills me with hope, there’s nothing that compromises your species more than your feelings,” the man looks from Liam to Zayn and then back and then with a shrug he adds, “As it is, for now, we must move on.”

Liam starts to protest.  Starts to panic as two other Ostarians come closer to him and then to Zayn and the bindings that held them in place are released and Liam falls to the ground, hearing a groan from Zayn as he does too.

As heavy-limbed as Liam is once more, hopefully no worse till they face whatever the Ostarians have in store for them.

Oblivion.  Their names consigned to history, not even the slightest chance to leave a mark.

“Hope.”  

“Captain?” comes a voice, familiar to Liam.  

Liam’s eyes dart upwards to look at the man and his eyes widen at what he sees as the man holds a communicator in one hand. Three things happen in quick succession.

“Two to beam up when you’re ready,” the man’s lips curve up into a sort of beatific smile that promises nothing comforting.

Liam feels the sensation that’s growing more familiar but that he can’t quite fathom is happening right now just as something flies through the air and with the experience of a lad who was champion at fielding in cricket the few times he played it as a kid, he reaches out and catches it, overbalancing as he does and ends up.

On the transporter pad of his own ship.

\--

“I’m telling you, Captain, you’re both clear, there’s nothing I can detect, no implants, no nothing.”

Niall stood at the end of the bed Liam’s sitting on the edge of now, next to the bed Zayn’s sat on.  

“And we’re both okay?”

Niall holds up the tricorder, a look on his face somewhere between exasperation and concern.  “Well, I can run diagnostics a fourth time to be sure Captain but honestly, aside from exhaustion and a minor injury to your forehead which may have come from when you were on the ship here, there’s nothing I can see, you’re fine, thankfully nothing you experienced down there exacerbated your earlier head injury. You can both go back to the bridge after a few hours sleep.”

“Thanks, Doctor,”  Zayn gets off his bed and the look he gives Liam has Liam standing up and walking away from his own too.

“Yeah thanks, Doctor, sorry I just—”

Niall fixes him with that mix of best friend and Doctor stare that makes Liam wither a bit under it.

“I get it, Captain, and I’d be more worried if you weren’t being a bit paranoid if truth be told, but you’re doing better than we could have dared hope.”

“And the ship? Has anyone else...”  He doesn’t finish the sentence, knows he doesn’t have to.

“No, no more. Even after the kerfuffle and the injured are more stable, if we can afford any more alarms and excursions, it’ll be good, we can get back to Earth and put all this behind us.”

Liam exchanges a glance with Zayn before he returns his attention to Niall.

“Sounds like a plan. Commander, you can rest.  I’m going to my quarters to make a report, please do the same and then I’ll be back on the bridge,” he looks at the clock on the wall, “for night-shift it seems, we’ll have senior crew briefing tomorrow at the end of the night shift, please ensure everyone knows.”

“Aye Captain,” Zayn responds and Liam can hear him tapping his communicator as he walks away from the sickbay and towards his own quarters, smiling at the crew who seem genuinely pleased and relieved to have him back on the ship.  

“Lights on full,” he says as he steps back into his quarters and blows out a tired breath.

He looks longingly towards the bathroom and then his bed but there are more pressing matters.  He needs to make a report, list everything he remembers.  Try to find a way of summoning who he’d seen in his dreams on this ship.

And then get himself in a state where paranoia won’t be the undoing of this ship.  Where it won’t be something that consumes him.  

His communicator beeps and maybe he’s being daft but it's as though each time it beeps it makes distinctive enough noises that Liam knows if it’s bringing glad tidings or not.

His instinct is to dive into the shower to pretend like he didn’t hear which says it all about the feeling he has right now but instead he presses his comm.

“Bridge to Captain Payne, Admiral Bennett wishes to speak to you.”

Liam inwardly groans but then with his best attempt at seeming unweary he responds, “Thanks Styles, I’ll take it in my private quarters now.”

“Aye Captain.”

Liam takes his fingers away from the communicator, walks to his computer, turns it on and then looks briefly at the long mirror that he’s stood along from.

He looks like death warmed up but as there’s a single sound on screen and a face appears, he doesn’t have time to try and fix it, instead he salutes.

“Admiral Bennett.”

“Captain Payne, sit down before you fall down and bring me up to speed.”

The Admiral doesn’t need to ask twice as Liam pulls the chair out, slumps into it and fills the Admiral in.

\--

“So, we’ve been given a clean bill of health and now we continue our course back to Earth, assuming we don’t run into further problems along the way, of course.”

Liam concludes his report glancing at his watch as he does, that took 28 minutes.

Admiral Bennett nods then with a glance to his left and a nod towards someone Liam can’t see on screen which makes his hackles rise, he clasps his hands together and leans forward.

Admiral Bennett’s probably about fifty-two, Liam estimates. Greying hair and beard with glasses and an inscrutable expression on his face ninety-nine percent of the time.

Like now.  

“Thank you for the report, Captain.  I’m glad that you and your Commander are safe and that you’ve experienced no further casualties.  It makes me more confident in my decision regarding your immediate plans and a change in them.”

Liam doesn't like the sinking feeling in his stomach.

“I suspect that if you continue on your current path, the Ostarians will leave you alone and we’ll be no wiser to their motives or if you’re right then why they were the ones who attacked the Galaxy, you have other duties you could carry out that are more important than getting back to Ear—”

“No.”  Liam kicks his chair away and stands up.  “No, the crew is exhausted, we’ve been badly affected by the events, we need to get back and regroup and debrief. And the ship, the ship’s damaged, we have injuries.”

“Which is why it’s fortunate that a repair vessel is on a direct course to you and should be there within...” Bennett glances away and after a brief pause and another nod at whoever’s in the room with him adds, “four hours, they will assist you with any repairs the ship requires and they have a sizeable medical facility which is where the injured can be transferred to and brought back to Earth to allow you to continue.”

“And be bait?” Liam spits out.

“Your duties as the newest ship in our fleet, making first contact, carrying out exploratory missions as Starfleet requires you to do, Captain.”

“Including being bait.”

“As it stands Captain, we have flimsy evidence linking the attacks on your ship, the abduction of you and your first officer to previous attacks, if on your mission, you are able to be a conduit to finding that link, then isn’t that the type of thing you signed up for?  And I might add that though your journey has been arduous so far, you’ve been out there for a minimal amount of evidence. To disobey direct orders, to challenge those orders as you are is in no way encouraging regarding your potential and is tantamount to insubordination if you are not careful Captain Payne.”

Liam chews hard on his bottom lip, clenches his fists and then unclenches them. 

“Understood Captain?”

Liam looks directly at the Admiral.

“Loud and clear, Admiral.”

“Good, then the ship will dock with you as planned.  According to the information we have from engineering, the repairs will take approximately six hours and then you can be on your way. Who knows Captain?  You may just be on a beach sipping the Cardassian sunrise before long.”

Liam nods, then a thought comes to his head.  “And the spy, traitor or whatever they are, you have no information on who it is?”   

The Admiral leans forward again. “You’re tired, Captain.  Get some rest now once you’ve briefed the crew of the plans.  You’ve dealt with the traitor, now try and enjoy the rest of your mission.”

The screen goes blank and Liam hasn’t felt as brushed aside, as dismissed, since the day Archie died.  Since all his fears and concerns were ignored.

It’s not only that, it’s not only the way everything has changed again, but how the hell is he going to explain this to his crew, the people he has responsibility for?  

If he felt tired before, he’s exhausted now but with one longing look towards his bathroom, he steps out of his quarters and into the corridor and speaks into his communicator.  “Commander Malik, gather the senior crew, no exceptions, meet in the briefing room in 10 minutes please.”

“Aye Captain, is everything okay?” comes the immediate response, the words loaded with curiosity, suspicion too maybe that’s well founded.

“I’ll explain,” Liam replies, taking his hand away from his comm and walking towards what he’s sure will be deafening anger and somehow he has to talk them down, bring them onside when he’s not even sure he’s got the desire to do so.

**

Deafening anger turned out to be weary acceptance.  

Zayn’s eyes boring into him challenging Liam to meet them and show how he was truly feeling about it all.

Forced optimism around the room as Louis, then Harry, then Paul had said how they hadn’t wanted to return to Earth anyway even though he knows it’s an outright lie.

Even though he knows they each had made plans.  

He doesn’t know whether to hug them or shake them.  

Now, eleven hours later as the repair ship leaves, repairs made to the ship that has it almost as good as new and the injured safely taken away with promises from the Chief Medical Officer on the SS Salvation to update Niall regularly, Liam forces himself to change his mindset.

To at least attempt to try to be like his crew.  To try and make the best of it.

“Mate, as your friend and Chief Medical Officer, if you don’t lie down in the next thirty minutes, you’ll fall down.  Go sleep and I’m telling Malik over there to do the same, the ship’s fine.”

A voice in front of Liam on the bridge at the helm echoes it.

“He’s right sir, plus I’ve been informed by Styles here that if we continue on the course suggested by the Chief Engineer of the Salvation, we’ll be close to Tryoni and you know what that means?”

“No, Tomlinson, I don’t.”

“They’re meant to have the most spectacular skies, and I think they’ve got beaches,” Zayn says to Liam’s right, the ghost of a smile appearing on his tired face. “Not quite Piscium Bay but not far off.”

“That’s right and they’ve got the best-baked goods on any planet around here aside from Earth.”  Styles adds brightly.

“And it just so happens Harry does a mean scone, great for first contact.”

“Except, if we already know about them then it’s hardly first contact.”

“Thirty-ninth contact’s the charm, Captain,” Zayn says, smiling wider now.  

Liam should despair, should remind them of their duties, should remind them of the fact that whatever else is going on, the threat of the Ostarians hasn’t gone away.

Nor the worry he carries that someone on this ship isn’t on the same side as them.  

Or the fact that it came to him earlier that Admiral Bennett mentioned the Cardassian sunrise and yet Liam had never mentioned it to him, or anyone except Zayn in the cell, and Niall one day years ago at the academy.  

That’s what a Captain is for though right?  To shoulder the burden of worry until he’s got no other alternative.

The job of a captain is also to lead, to inspire and to hope even when everything else suggests it’s a naive hope.  

Nothing about this journey’s been fun for them so far.  Nothing about why he signed up in the first place.

“How long till we get there then if we set a course?”  He steps behind Louis who exchanges a delighted glance with Harry.

“Ninety-three hours Captain.”

“Plenty of time to practice some scone making then Styles, just make sure you don’t burn the kitchen down or break any replicators.”

“No, sir.”

Liam exchanges a look with Zayn, raises his eyebrows and grins.

“Set a course for Tryoni then, Tomlinson.” Liam presses his communicator, “Higgins, want to test if those repairs have worked properly?”

“Aye, Captain,” comes the immediate response from his Chief Engineer which though Liam’s not the communication experts on this ship, he feels is infused by a fresh kind of enthusiasm that Liam hopes everyone will feel.

“You know what to do, Tomlinson,” Liam says, turns back towards his chair and sits down, he’ll get sleep later.

There’s a buzz on the bridge now that Liam hopes is translated through the ship as Louis and Engineering take them to warp speed 7 then 8.  

Zayn turns away from the helm, nods at Liam and for the first time since their imprisonment and release he looks at Zayn and other memories come forward, memories of what feels like a long time ago but actually isn’t that long at all come back. Memories of being with Zayn, getting to know him better.

Drawing and relaxing. Getting to a point where maybe the memories that haunt him can be shared, dispelled and minimised to not be nightmares anymore.

Starting to feel comfortable around someone that’s not Niall who can break through any barrier, or maybe even more even though it’s fanciful, irresponsible as a captain to even consider it, he’s realising if he doesn’t try it at least, it could be too late by the time he’s finally ready.

And he’s never been one for not being brave, why start to be anything different now?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that’s not the last we’ve seen of the Ostarians, so much more where that came from or the last we'll hear of Zayn and Liam's experiences.
> 
> The next chapter will but it will also build relationships, get to know people better while doing space fun and making space scones! Or as fun, as it can be when this ship’s destined for all kinds of shenanigans.
> 
> Really hope you're enjoying it, please please let me know your thoughts/ideas and any feedback you like or leave a kudos too if you read and got to the end of a chapter or more. They give me such a boost. xxx


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello. Didn't mean for this to take 5 months to update but here we are. I'm not going to say any more about when I will update but I hope they'll be much more frequent *touches wood*
> 
> Huge thanks as always to Tricia for her beta and for always being so supportive and ensuring the words I cobble together at least have some sense to them and also to Marie for reading it over too and encouraging me when I was mid-wobble. You both are fantastic. Thank you.
> 
> xx

This chapter is Zayn's POV.

\- - - - 

Crimson red coats Zayn’s fingers. Drops of it fall onto the ground which changes in colour from grey to white and back to grey.

He looks around him, it’s just him at first then he spins around and he’s cold, colder than he’s been since...then he’s warmer, he lifts up his hands, or tries to but he can’t.

He can’t move anything and he starts to panic.  Tries to flex his fingers but instead, something stops him.

Another person’s hand, maybe if he’s lucky he’ll look up and see his mum or dad.

He’s not.  Lucky that is.  

Instead, he sees the man with the expression that makes him shiver, renders him almost paralysed in thought as well as unable to move.

“Why?” he finds himself asking as he tries to move his hands and finds that he suddenly can, blinking with surprise as he does and with dread as he sees the crimson continue to drop onto the floor from in between his fingers.

It’s blood, he knows it’s blood and yet he feels no pain.

“Why?” he finds himself repeating as the man smiles, shakes his head and murmurs in what’s anything but a comforting voice as his hand reaches up to touch the side of Zayn’s face.

“Don’t fight it, we just need to know.”

Zayn tries to shrink away, tries to fight it, with his hands that were free but suddenly feel paralysed again. 

He tries to breathe calmly but as the hand presses harder against his head, he hears two things.

“It’ll hurt more if you fight it.”

The words lost in the sound of a piercing scream and a pain that he does feel now and then it’s dark.

“Hey. Hey, come on, Malik, come back to me.”

Zayn lashes out at the hand that’s resting on his arm, expecting to not be able to move it he blinks with shock as he hears someone swear but the hand doesn’t leave his arm.

It stays there and it feels comforting so Zayn opens one eye fully, then the other, expecting to see snow on the ground or the cell he’d been in.

Except there’s no snow, no cold floor. Instead, he finds himself on what seems like a sun lounger surrounded by a multitude of other sun loungers around him.

Around him, it’s the stillness that’s woken Zayn every day for the last week. 

Not the ship kind of stillness, that quiet that’s underlined by the hum of the engines. Here it’s altogether a different kind of still.

He blinks his eyes shut and then opens them again, eyes adjusting quickly to the brightness of the sky. 

A brightness that’s not like the brightness of a sunny day back home in Bradford.  It’s a lilac sky illuminated frequently with tiny flecks of yellow that snap into view and then disappear as quickly as they arrive.  

At night, it transforms into a bluey-green colour, the flecks of yellow lingering at night as stars.

It’s beautiful but bizarre. It’s what Zayn read books about as a child, thinking it was too outlandish to be real.  A figment of the writers’ imagination but something he clung onto, something that lit the spark of interest in not playing football for Bradford or simply being a shuttle pilot.

The dreams and the books that made him work harder than everyone else at school and then at university.

So hard that he graduated a year early.  

To experience this, this incredible place that almost makes the previous weeks on the ship worth it.  

That almost makes the bad dreams, make that the nightmares, worth it.  

“You’re going again, I can tell. Come back to me and I’ll get you a drink and we can talk because I know you need to. Trust me. I can see the signs.”

Paddy stands up and walks towards the bar area in the corner and Zayn can’t even muster up the energy to argue because the truth is, he needs to talk and he can’t talk to Louis because Louis worries, he pretends he doesn’t but he does, and Zayn can’t do that to him.

And he certainly can’t talk to Liam, not yet, or ever. Or not about this. Whatever  _this_  is. 

“They didn’t have any of the coffees I know you like the best. But they did have this weird looking effort, and in for a penny, in for a pound. Isn’t that what they used to say a couple of centuries back? So I got one too.”

Paddy places the drink on the table in between their sun loungers and sits down on his own, adjusts the back of it so it’s upright and then moves the table slightly so he’s facing Zayn’s sun lounger and his legs are stretched out underneath it. 

“It’s called a cerulean coffee, I have no idea why.”

“Probably to do with how the sky sometimes looks at night, you know,” Zayn offers.

“I knew that, just checking you were paying attention.”  Paddy smiles, lifting up his drink, sniffing at it suspiciously, “I suppose I should be the one trying it before you. Me being head of security and you being 2nd only to God, on that ship at least.”

He takes a sip and places it back onto the table and Zayn keeps watching him, the exaggerated expressions making him smile, reminding him of his Dad when Zayn was a kid and trying to get away without having sprouts and making such a meal of them himself that Zayn always gave in, always had them. 

It fills Zayn with such an unexpected longing for home he has to suck in a breath before a strangled sob gets the chance to betray him. 

Paddy gives no inkling that he notices it but right after it happens he loudly declares, “It’s basically a posh Mocha if you ask me. And you’re into that kind of shit aren’t you? Trust me you’ll love it. Right after you start telling me about the nightmares, what you aren’t telling anyone never mind the captain or your best friend, and then right after that you can tell me why you aren’t phoning home when it was the first thing on your mind before the shit started hitting the fan.”

Even if he didn’t choose that moment to look at Paddy, Zayn knows he’d be able to feel his gaze penetrating him, knows he couldn’t get away with it. 

Maybe he doesn’t want to get away with it. For the most senior communications officer on the ship, Zayn’s really terrible at doing the communications part of it all at times.

He needs this.

“It's nothing, Paddy. Nothing at all that can’t be cured by another few nights of rest here. This is all I need really.  I’m fine.”

He’s an idiot.

Give Paddy his due, the sigh isn’t as loud as it could be and he doesn’t make Zayn feel two-foot-tall or stupid.

“Okay, I’m gonna tell you a story about someone I used to know. Have a drink of the fancy mocha while I tell you. Just hear me out and if you decide to pretend like everything's perfect after that, fine, I’ll just try and make sure one of us is there to pick up the pieces, but just listen, right?”

Zayn reaches for the drink, the warmth of it soothing him as he wraps both hands around the tall mug and shifts slightly so he can watch Paddy as he speaks. 

Paddy, who draws a hand over his mouth and chin, takes a deep breath and tells the story.

“He was called Jason. About a year younger than me, came from Scotland, we sat next to each other on the transporter ship to Starfleet Academy. Hated him on sight. I was the only one, everyone else thought the sun shone out of his arse and every single hole in his body. Shit, I hated him.”

Paddy barks out a laugh. 

“Then I ended up in every bloody training scenario with him. Hating him so much that I started going everywhere with him. Hated him so much I ended up sharing quarters with him at the academy. Hated him so much I named his as my emergency contact because he was the only one I felt would be able to handle something happening to me well because he hated me as much as I hated him so it’d be easy as anything.”

Paddy pauses, reaching for his own drink, taking a sip.

“We ended up on the same ship. Assigned on it when we graduated.  Me as a junior security officer and him as an engineer.   He was flying the ship within ten days. He was the captain’s 2nd in command within three months, highly decorated captain within two years, dad of two within four years and lying dead in my arms within 5 years.”

“I’m sorry,” Zayn says, genuinely, all too aware that it’s not enough that the way Paddy’s hands tremble as they hold the drink betray his apparent calmness in telling the story.

“That’s only the start of it, Zayn. There are ways to cope with the good stuff in your life. You celebrate it, you try and do everything at once and grab all the moments you can, and that feeling of joy is so intoxicating. I felt it when I held my baby daughter for the first time, when I married her mother 4 months earlier in a panic cause her mammy and daddy were coming to visit and she was showing. I felt it when me and Jason went on away missions together and did good stuff. Did stuff that changed the way Earth looked at everything.”

Another sip and the tremble as Paddy’s free hand hovers in midair is stronger and the words more hesitantly spoken. 

“It’s when the bad stuff happens, when the fact that you were holding your best friend in your arms as he bled out, meant that you almost forgot you nearly died too. And you block out everything, and you block out everyone, not at first.  

No, at first, I spoke to Dolores about it all or at least what I remembered. But then just after I got cleared to return to the ship, the nightmares started and they didn’t stop. Still haven’t stopped, doubt they ever will. Honestly, think I’d freak out if they ever did stop. We were away for nine months.  It was only when I was walking up the street around the corner from our house that I realised I hadn’t contacted Dee once, hadn’t even enquired about Sinead or how she was doing, had deleted every single email I got from Dee before I even read it and if you’d asked me what I’d done on that ship for nine months I couldn’t have told you. Still can’t.”

“What did she say?”

“‘I’m so glad you’re home. I was worried you’d never come back.’ That’s what she said. She didn’t shout at me, she didn’t bawl at me, she was so bloody understanding and do you know what I did?  I didn’t beg for her forgiveness. I didn’t spend the shore leave getting to know my daughter, Nah, I walked out in the middle of the night and spent my entire shore leave on successive friend’s settees steaming drunk every single night until I was down to my last friend who dragged me out of that, almost beat the crap out of me and made me talk, made me see a psychiatrist, made me see sense.”

Quieter then, Paddy adds, “Made me see what I lost.”

“Dee?”

The muscle in Paddy’s cheek twitches and there’s a small rueful smile.

“I see you Dee, and I raise you everything.  Literally everything and all because I ran away to this place in my head that I’ve never fully escaped from.  I’m lucky Sinead still speaks to me. Bloody hell, she asks me for advice.  Me?  That says more about her and her ma for their forgiveness than it does me.”

Paddy places the drink down again, pokes at Zayn’s side and says quietly, “Look at me Zayn, look at me good okay?  I’m not even saying you’re the worst for internalising everything because I think we know the Captain is that person and no bloody wonder, but it’s different with you because  _you_  have a family. You have people on this ship, and off this ship that are here to listen, that are here to support you even if you look at it only as something that means you can support him the way I think we all know you want to.”

Zayn starts to protest but catches Paddy’s eye, feels him blushing and blows out a breath. 

“Not that I approve necessarily.  It’s bad news for the Security Chief for you even to be best friends in some ways, never mind anything else. But the worst thing for the ship and it’s crew is for both its Captain and Commander to be clouded by whatever experiences you both went through down on that bloody planet.  To ignore it and to ignore your family when they’re trying their best to help you, or at least understand you.  Just don’t do what I did. I got lucky. Somehow I got lucky. I didn’t lose Sinead or even Dee for good. Not everyone gets that lucky.”

Zayn tears his gaze away from Paddy. Runs a hand through his hair, holding the mug with his other hand still and stares up at the sky shutting his eyes.  Then he sees red, hears that voice again and he can’t stop the strangled sob.  

“When was the last time you slept properly?”

Zayn opens his eyes, glances up at the sky, relieved that it’s still lilac and shrugs, muttering a non-committal “I dunno” in Paddy’s direction.

“That’s when you sound your age, or even younger, you daft sod.” Paddy grins and then softer, quieter he adds, “You  _are_ allowed to ask Horan for help to sleep you know. It won’t be looked on badly as long as it’s him prescribing it. There’s all kinds, or even therapy, non-invasive stuff that can help you. Trust me, mate, there’s only so long you can go on pretending.”

“The weirdest thing is the blood cause there were no scratches on me, not a mark on me at all and yet all I dream about is pain and blood and that voice.  His voice goes through me. The same questions over and over again and this thrumming in my head that even after I’ve woken up, for hours after, I’ve got his pain in my head and yet there wasn’t a scratch on me.”

Zayn’s breathless, surprised, confused, and glares at the mug as if it’s not cerulean coffee but some kind of truth liquid.  Can’t bring himself to look at Paddy yet.  

“He kept saying they just needed to know. Kept saying not to fight it and it’s fine. It's like I’m floating along with this maniac talking so bloody reasonably to me while blood’s dripping everywhere but it’s the pain when it comes, I just have to think of it and I can’t do anything else except think of it. Fuck’s sake, it’s ridiculous. I know it’s not real. Paddy, I didn’t even have a scratch on me, it doesn’t make sense.”

The hand is back on his arm again, grounding him, calming him. So much like Yaser’s hand, but it’s not and what he wouldn’t give to be back home right now to feel the comfort. His mum having stuck a cottage pie in the replicator while they watch centuries-old football matches and his sisters' squabble in the background.  

“He’s a madman, he’s not meant to make sense, Zayn.”

Yaser Malik doesn’t talk about madmen though.

“Psychological torture ‘cause that’s what it is, and before you argue with me, I know this shit, been there, bought the t-shirt and there’s a lot more where that little story I told you earlier came from. And I only tell you that ‘cause you need to know it’s normal what you’re going through. The one thing that isn’t normal?  It’s trying to deal with it on your own.”

Zayn nods. He knows all this anyway, has given advice like this to pretty much everyone at one time or another.  Just goes to show that the one person you can’t help when they need it most is yourself until someone else shows the way. 

“Do you know if Liam…” He doesn’t finish the sentence and he’s almost too nervous to look at Paddy, to see his reaction, but his nerves are allayed by the smile and the lack of judgement in Paddy’s eyes. 

“I think the Doc’s tried, and if anyone had a shot at it, it was him being as he knows his history a whole lot better than...well, everyone really, but no, he hasn’t. He won’t. Daresay he won’t to anyone. Well, maybe one.”

Paddy squeezes Zayn’s arm and then drains the remainder of his coffee, setting it down on the table before he glances at his watch. 

“I genuinely do wish I could stay here and chat all day with you, you know. I think I need it almost as much as you. You’re a good one, Malik. So’s that captain of yours. Don’t squander it for the rest of us, but most of all don’t squander it for you.”

“Squander what?” 

Paddy stands up, picking up his mug, gesturing for Zayn’s who shakes his head as he hasn’t quite finished his and raises his eyebrows then shrugs.

“Not for me to say.  I think it’s for you to figure out. I do know one thing though, and that is that it’s all on that ship, the answer. It or who is the question. Or maybe you can be different, maybe you can be the one who doesn’t have to choose between anything. Anyway better go before all security collapses to its knees cause I’m 2 minutes late.”

He grins at Zayn and then squeezes Zayn’s neck affectionately before he turns, walks around the sun lounger and starts to walk away.

“Thanks, Paddy,” Zayn calls after him and watches him leave before he turns his attention back to his drink, back to the sky above and the fierce determination in him not to shut his eyes just in case it all comes back.

Just in case?  Well, you have to love a man with optimism right? 

His musing’s interrupted by Paddy who’s the other side of the sun lounger again.

“I meant to say, we’ll have the usual couple of hours of time available for people to call their families and friends on Earth from 7pm tonight, except tonight I’ve told everyone it’s only available from 8pm. Just thought I’d mention it.”

Paddy accompanies the last few words with a quick wink. 

Interfering in what’s usually so private for Zayn would normally annoy him, even despite all that’s been shared, but truth is though, he’s too nervous suddenly, too many butterflies in his stomach, too many thoughts of how good it would be to hear his mum and dad’s voices again, too many feelings of reality and the absolute certainty that he’ll squander this at least. 

He’s not ready, and he’s not even sure yet if he ever will be.  

**

Cardassian sunrises don’t agree with Zayn.  Nor does Louis.  

“You’re just a grumpy twat who doesn’t like to have a good time that’s the long and short of it, Malik.”

“And you’re the only person I know who thinks a Cardassian sunrise and a triple shock energy fix is a good idea. I’m just glad you didn’t discover this drink when you were at the academy and we shared quarters.”

“Misery guts,” Louis fires back, though his smile is soft and his eyes narrow, but not in the way that suggests trouble, more like the way that suggests another kind of trouble. The Louis who’s searching Zayn for an answer to whatever question he’s got in his head.

“You seem different tonight you know, tired but a bit lighter.  I know you’ve had a shit time of it, terrible sleep and that.”

At Zayn’s look of surprise, Louis rolls his eyes.

“You think I wouldn’t notice, wouldn’t know. I just wish you’d open up. You need to, to someone.”

Zayn stares at the ground, absent-mindedly running the cocktail stick around the glass, shrugs, dimly aware of Louis’ sigh. 

“I know it’s Liam you want to talk to, I get it I think.  It’s just I don’t think it’s the best idea...I mean, I think it, but I know you’ll probably go ahead and do it like the idiot you are. I just want you to be okay, want this ship to be okay.”

That brings Zayn back. “Thought you were having second thoughts, the other day you said…”

“Well, that was the other day. Today’s today. It ain’t all bad, but it would be if you aren’t on this ship one hundred percent. And him? Just know it’s not confined to just the two of you, okay? Just talk to me, even if it’s that you fucked up the replicator order of coffee one morning and you’re feeling in a nark ‘cause of it. That’s the Zayn I know, not this quiet, won’t-tell-anyone-about-his-feelings Zayn.”

“It’ll happen, Lou. It feels like it’s there on the tip of me tongue, it does, and I know it’s the worst idea to talk to him, I mean look at him.”

Zayn gestures across the other side of the restaurant to where Liam’s sat on his own, hands idly scrolling the tablet while his eyes look off in a different direction. 

“I would, but every time I do, Zayn the Possessive threatens to remove me eyeballs.”

Zayn kicks gently at Louis who does the playful over-the-top yelp delightedly before he sobers.

“He looks like he needs a friend and in ordinary circumstances, mate, I’d say go be that friend and if it turns into more, then fuck it, you only live once. And apparently in this line of work, it’s not guaranteed to be for long.”

“But?”

“I don’t have to tell you, do I?  You know exactly what I’m driving at, mate, and I think that’s what’s got you into this mess. And maybe pushing it further will make it worse and we’ve already had a shit time. I don’t think we’d cope too well with worse than that.” There’s a beat of silence, not long enough to think too hard on the worse-than-what’s-been-already before Louis adds,” on the other hand though...”

“Yeah?” is all Zayn says in response. One word weighted with the knowledge between them. 

“Ah well, not tonight Josephine,” Louis points towards Liam who’s not sat down anymore. Instead, he’s stood up talking to some crew, occasionally laughing, the soft sound rippling through the air towards Zayn before he nods a goodbye to the crew and disappears away from Zayn’s view.

Zayn’s not sure whether to be relieved or gutted.  Maybe both is allowed? 

“Good news is that means you can come and experience the famed scones at last, mate. These are the dog's bollocks, the monkey’s testicles, the meat and two veg, horse's knackers. They’re just well good and half six is the best time to have ‘em, so you coming?”

Zayn looks over to see if Liam’s come back, knows the answer will always be no, or at least for tonight, and then responds with a firm ‘yeah’ to Louis, stands up and follows him towards the famed scones.  

**

The scones are much larger than Zayn imagined they’d be. Probably twice the size of the ones they used to make in the replicator classes Zayn was in at school. 

He’s only had one bite and they’re light as can be, melting in his mouth like butter and quite honestly the best thing he’s had since he set foot on that ship.

Naturally, he saves one for Liam. Naturally, he chickens out of announcing himself outside Liam’s room and instead, settles for placing it in a box and putting it in the storage unit built into the wall that Liam can access later.

He doesn’t leave a message, doesn’t need to. It’s their little secret, the things they’ve left each other. It only happened a few times and it’s just tokens between two shipmates. 

The captain and his second-in-command need to have a close working relationship after all. 

It’s okay to be friends.  Everyone’s said so. 

That and three hundred thousand lies of denial Zayn Malik has told himself over and over in recent weeks.

A familiar voice in his head tells him, ‘One day it’ll hit you, like a ton of bricks that feeling you thought you’d had before but then you realise when it happens this time, that was child's-play,  _this_  is the real thing and it’ll hurt like anything cause you’ll convince yourself you're not entitled to it, but you are. You are my beautiful boy. _You_  are entitled to everything that’s good, and it’ll come, maybe with some tears and maybe with some pain. It’ll be worth it though.’

He almost turns back to the door, almost announces himself, almost has this speech he’s had in his mind playing over and over since the moment he met him ready to finally be spoken. Ready to admit he needs him as much as he thinks Liam needs him back. 

Almost but not almost enough.  

Instead, he walks, no, he practically runs away and two minutes later, he’s in his quarters, back resting briefly against the closed door, before he walks across to his bed, suddenly drained but too aware of what’ll happen when he shuts his eyes.

He thinks for a moment of calling Niall, asking for help to sleep, then he remembers and he walks over to the chair, pulls it back, sits down and glances at the time on the screen. 

Presses a button and a message pops up instantly.

“Good lad” is all it says and he smiles as the line only rings once as he places the headphones on cause he doesn’t want anyone else to hear, even though they never would anyway, he just wants this all to himself.

It’s been too long when not that long ago a day or two would have been an eternity. The hesitation, the fearfulness in her voice makes him loathe himself and his decisions of late but it’s too late for that. There’s no sense in that, and it’s enough to hear her voice and on-screen communications with Earth have been out of the question here because of interference but then something happens. The screen blacks out for a moment before it comes back on again and there’s her face, and there’s his, and there’s the wall with all the pictures on behind them and there’s Betsy the pug, and he’s a million or trillion miles away but he’s never felt closer.

“Hello mum, ‘ello dad, been a while. I think I need to talk to you,”  he shakes his head cause that’s not true, “no, scratch that, I  _have_ to talk to you.”

Then quieter, softer, hesitancy and fear that they’ll say no, which is crazy as they’ve never said no to him yet when he needed them, brimming to the surface and so clear that his dad leans towards the screen, eyebrows furrowing in concern as he does he adds.

“Please,  _can_ we?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. I would love to know what you think xx


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you once again to Tricia for the amazing beta that just makes this fic even slightly legible and your support which is so appreciated always and to Marie for the support which when I'm in major doubt mode helps me so much. You're both incredible.
> 
> This and the following chapter make this fic my longest one yet. I'm so happy and I hope you like it. This chapter is Liam's POV.

“Yeah, but did you see the way he raised his eyebrows though, mate? When Zayn repeated his sentence word for word, he was so impressed.  Fuck, I had no idea first contact could be like that.”

Liam can’t hold back the smile on his face as he listens to Louis’ excited chatter to Niall along the corridors of the ship. He looks to his right for a moment and sees the small smile on Zayn’s face. Quiet satisfaction with a job well done, just how Liam feels except for Liam add a huge amount of pride in how well that last twelve hours or so have gone.

Add on top of that, his exhaustion and it’s that type of tiredness he’d forgotten it’s possible to have. That feeling of when the adrenaline is fading and all you want to do is sit down, eat something nice, drink a bit of wine even, and just listen to the crew talk excitedly about what happened.

Why they came on this ship in the first place. Not for danger, but for the satisfaction of building relationships with small planets, large planets, and for improving things, changing perceptions, learning things that can help not only Earth, but other planets. 

For Liam, it’s about getting to know how smart the crew is, how gifted his Commander is, (okay maybe he’s biased, he’s not even bothered if he is) and selfishly, maybe, it’s about finding out that he isn’t a disaster at being Captain. It’s about winning the respect, albeit grudging if most of his superior officers at Starfleet are anything to go by, of all those he feels he needs it from.

And trust. The trust of his crew that he’s not someone who will constantly lead them into danger.  

They’ve not looked back since Tryoni. They left there ten days ago. He’s happy enough to admit he was wrong and that the enforced rest has been the best thing for this ship and everyone on it, and now the ship’s as good as new and the only reminder aside from the thoughts in his head that he pushes back daily is the small plaque on deck one of those lost.

Louis stops ahead of him and turns around, Sam Taylor, one of the security team, does the same. 

“Debrief tonight or tomorrow, Captain?” Louis asks.  

It should be tonight but it’s late and there’s nothing urgent. He’ll make his own initial report to Starfleet later but he can’t see the rush for everyone to have to report in, and sometimes reflecting makes for the best reports and meetings.

He turns so he’s almost leaning against the wall and so he can look at all of the team. All of them involved in what he can proudly, rightly, call a huge success of a first contact.

Malik, Tomlinson, Taylor, Horan, Hanna Yiu-Kim of Horan’s medical team, O’Brien and Sonny Francisco who is Higgins’second-in-command in Engineering.

Fine talented individuals in their own right, but together so formidable he could burst with pride, but that would be uncaptainly so he doesn’t.

“Tomorrow,” he says, unable to hold back a grin when Taylor does a little first pump and then realising he did it aloud mutters an apology, catching Liam’s eye for a moment.

“No need for apologies. I get it. Been a long day, and several times as long in preparation. Enjoy tonight, you’ve earned it. Debrief 9.30am tomorrow in the ready room.”

It’s not a question, and everyone responds with a firm ‘Aye captain’ and a nod of the head before Liam says, “Well, what are you waiting for?” and they don’t need telling a second time.

He watches them go off in different directions.  Hears Louis explain to Taylor that he can’t quite understand how the ship is in one piece given Harry had been left to lead on the flying of it.

Hears Yiu-Kim and Niall chatter animatedly about the ways they can help those on Golia with the virus that threatens the Golians, as well as their plant life. And he could listen all day to his crew, listen to them express the passion he feels within him about this life, this life that’s finally realising what he’d imagined it would since he was a kid.  

“Captain?”

Liam does an almost comical double-take at Zayn’s voice and turns his head to look at his second-in-command.

“Commander,” he responds simply, hint of a smile quirking up the corners of his mouth.  

The crew pass by them as they look at each other for maybe a bit longer than would be considered normal on Earth, never mind Golia, or Tryoni, or any other place in the universe.  They’re just lucky none of the crew that’s closest to them are here right now. 

“Goodnight, Captain,” Zayn says after however many seconds it’s been; and then he’s gone.

“Goodnight, Commander,” Liam replies to a now empty corridor. Shaking his head he walks back to his quarters ready to make his first report and check in with Higgins, who he’d left in command of the ship, for an update on the ship and what’s been happening today in his absence. 

-  -  -  -  -  -  -  -

There’s a part of the ship next to the gym that used to be sealed off.  No one knows why.  It just was, this blocked off area that Liam discovered one day when he rested his head against the wall outside the gym after a particularly strenuous session.

It's no longer sealed off except only he knows that. Apart from O’Brien and Malik that is.  O’Brien because he’s Chief Security Officer, and Malik, well, because he’s Liam’s deputy but also because the moment Liam broke into the room and saw the window, he’d tapped his communicator and Zayn had agreed it was perfect the moment he saw it. 

Zayn’s already there when Liam arrives, slightly out of breath because he’s running seriously late due to the initial report and an unexpected deluge of follow-up questions from Starfleet, and the update from Higgins, which came complete with a minute explanation of the updates and improvements being made to the transporter capability on the ship. 

“Sorry, sorry,” he says as the door swishes open and then shut behind him.

Zayn’s looking out the window and doesn’t turn around as he responds with a “It’s fine Liam, could stand here for the rest of time and never get tired of this view ever as it happens.”

Liam crosses the small room next to where Zayn’s stood, and stares out too. It’s almost a crime to keep this view to themselves, but perhaps he can justify it as a place that the two people with the most expectations and pressure on them on this ship deserve; a place that’s just for them to relax.  

Yeah, that’s what he’ll say if anyone questions it.  

The majesty of the universe, the beauty and expanse of space right there in front of them. Stars lighting the sky, Golia fading in the distance, ahead of them more places just like it but enough time has passed now that anything that’s not as friendly as Tryoni or Golia doesn’t hold the same level of apprehension or even fear that it did before. 

It's more excitement, not a fear of the unknown at all. Just a little knot of excitement in his stomach of what’s to come, which he knows will make it extra impossible to sleep after the success of the first contact too.

“Ready?” Zayn asks, breaking the comfortable silence after a few more minutes.  

“Yeah, definitely,” Liam responds, watching as Zayn turns away and picks up a scroll of paper and hands Liam some pencils which Liam sets down on his easel that Zayn had already set up for each of them. 

“Any particular theme this week or?”

Liam shakes his head. “I like freestyle best, just wherever our mind takes us. What do you reckon?”

Zayn’s grin is the answer he hoped for and it’s quiet again as they stand behind their easels.  Liam is just behind Zayn’s so he can see him, watch him, as if it’s his favourite thing to do.

Soon the only sounds are that of pencil on paper, of occasional murmurs, of the hum of the engine of the ship, and their breathing. It’s like that for who knows how long. 

They started this on the way to Tryoni when Liam felt like his head would explode if he didn’t have some way of relaxing that wasn’t being in the gym beating the living daylights out of a punching bag. 

That one time in Zayn’s quarters being the key to unlocking the idea in Liam’s head. He’d half expected Zayn to say no, as used to the disappointment as he is. Used to the fact that his desperation to find someone to be close to often turned people away, and also used to the fear that if they did become close, they’d see how dangerous it was to be so close. 

Except Zayn said yes; seemed delighted. And even though tonight’s only the third time, it feels as natural and as part of his normal routine as having a hot drink in the morning. 

The first time had felt awkward, afraid of saying too much or not saying enough. Afraid that he’d draw something that’d be so transparent to Zayn that he’d run a mile; instead he’d drawn flowers. Flowers his mum loves, or maybe she doesn’t these days, but flowers he remembers she loved before he came along and decreed that flowers were a waste of time. 

He hadn’t told Zayn and thankfully Zayn hadn’t questioned it. Instead, they’d talked about Zayn’s childhood some more, his friends, and everything except Liam and Liam’s life.

And the nightmares and the fear that used to be ever-present are now gone, leaving Liam wondering what the hell were they getting so worked up about. 

Not that fear has to be an enemy always. Fear keeps you on your toes at least. But the fear Liam had, the nightmares too, were the type of things that eat at you rather than help make sure you keep your wits about you. 

Too much like the old fear and he needs not to think of that. 

“How you getting on?” he asks Zayn who stops for a moment, scratches his head and looks back briefly towards Liam.

“Nearly done, yeah, you?”

Liam glances at his easel and the paper on it. He can’t even remember the thought process for drawing what he sees on the paper and he wants to scrap it, wants to scrunch it into a ball and get rid of it.

But something stops him and instead his fingertips reach out to touch it as he stares at his work.

“Li? Captain?”

The formality brings him back and he straightens quickly and tries not to look at Zayn who’s stood by Liam’s easel now. 

“You okay? You can sit down, we can stop this if it’s too much and you don’t have to show me, whatever it is, just know I’m here though, yeah?”

Kindness undoes Liam more than any other type of emotion or action from any other person because he spent every day from a young, too young, age experiencing anything but kindness.

Even then any kindness would be a camouflage for something else. Something that ninety-nine times out of one hundred would turn bad.  

He’s known real kindness in more recent years, even knew it in the worst times sparingly., It leaves him shaky though. Vulnerable, and he almost resents that feeling, resents the longing for the kindness in Zayn’s voice and as he looks up, for the same in Zayn’s eyes. 

He almost brushes it off, almost reverts to the old type of Liam, to the comfort, albeit cold, of formality and screw all the progress they’ve made in the friendship he’s built with Zayn. 

Except he chooses right then to look back at the picture and all that urge disappears from him and instead, he sags, shuts his eyes, and before he can stop himself, he starts talking.

“That’s how I remember her, no matter what came after. With her long hair which she always had either up in a bun or a ponytail. Unless Dad was taking her somewhere and then she’d wear it long. She used to dye her hair all kinds of shades. She never stopped smiling and then dad… well, after that she just never smiled again. Not like that anyway. Everyone always said they saw more of dad in me than mum.”

“She’s got your eyes. Or you’ve got hers more like.” Zayn’s next to him now. “Her smile too.”

“I’ve got dad’s laugh though.” Liam smiles. It’s such a dim memory, but one he jealously keeps.

“Afterwards, her hair turned grey prematurely. She never used to drink or anything but after that, she started, and that’s how she met him. She was still young when it happened and young too when she met him, and yet he sucked all the life from her, the hope and the chance to be happy even after Dad,” he stops, taking a short breath because it still feels hard to say it, “well, died.”

His voice trembles on that word, he can count on one hand the number of times he’s said it.  

He can say it all day long about anything else. About his own relationships which have died, about plants, about flowers, bloody hell, even about people on this ship. About how his relationship with his mum withered away or was shot to hell and died the moment she didn’t stand up for Liam and bring him home after he told him to go and never come back.

Say that word about his dad though? Even though it’s been a reality for so long, it still feels impossible and unbelievable. 

His dad had been a teacher. Inspiring all the other kids around where they lived and online in a dozen planets across the universe.  

He’d bought Liam his first telescope when Liam was 3. Just a hand-held one that a small child could carry, so Liam did in his chubby hands, mostly using it to annoy their cat until one day his dad had sat him on his lap when he was 5 years old and Liam saw the star that his dad said would always follow him around even when he got older and needed protection. 

Liam believed him. His dad could have told him the moon was made out of cheese and he’d have believed him because he never lied. Except for the lie when he said he’d always be there for Liam. It was just a cough that turned into pneumonia. He’d died within 2 weeks of sitting Liam on his lap. 

“I suppose for me she died the moment Dad did. That’s why I keep this memory of her in my head. I feel warm when I look at her like this, whereas I feel nothing when I think of after.”

“Is she still alive?”

Liam shrugs and Zayn frowns.

“Don’t you even want to know? Like I get the anger about whatever happened after but she’s still your mum, the way you looked at that drawing, maybe it’s not too la—”

“Anyway, what did you draw?” Liam interrupts, almost pushes Zayn aside to walk over to Zayn’s easel. 

“Shut up Zayn then, eh, Li? Okay, well, I’m not going to push it except for one thing I’m gonna say, and that is that every time we’ve done this, it’s been a reference to your childhood. That film you talked about, your mum, the flowers, the star. Just listen to that and one day, I’ll be ready, yeah?”

Zayn’s touch is light on Liam’s neck, brief too, but it's comforting and reassuring and it's almost enough to make Liam want to blurt it all out because Zayn’s probably right. It’s like this sore that keeps weeping and either he has to close it and never talk about it again or one day he has to speak about it, or the only thing that’ll be Liam’s undoing is his own mind. 

He murmurs a quiet ‘thank you’ in response and gestures to Zayn’s drawing before looking at Zayn whose cheeks have reddened slightly.

“You know Venice, right? Heard about it, yeah?”

Liam nods. “A city surrounded by water before it became overwhelmed completely by it?”

“Yeah, that’s it. Have you ever seen paintings of it or even video of it in its heyday? Ah, Liam, it was beautiful. Little bridges everywhere, men in gondolas transporting people through the winding streets and rivers through it all. Tiny little restaurants hidden away. Little shops selling art. Did you know one of my favourite meals is spaghetti, and did you also know that minestrone soup is the food of all the gods that have ever existed on any planet?”

Liam grins. “Even better than that scone you left in my storage unit?”  

Zayn reddens more before he checks himself and leans in to Liam.

“I did wonder if you ever got it. Dead nice though wasn’t it?”

“It was great, knew it was you just didn’t want to say it. Dunno why. Anyway, tell me, what’s this drawing of?”

Zayn picks up the paper.

“This is the Bridge of Fists, or to give it it’s Italian name, Ponte dei Pugni, and they called it fists ‘cause it’s where people from rival groups would fight each other and try and get the opponent into the water.”

Liam takes the paper from Zayn who points out footprints drawn on the bridge. 

“Those four footprints are kind of based on that part of its history.”

“It’s beautiful, even if the history is a bit grim.”

“Sometimes the most stunning things have a past that’s been dark as hell but they’re still intact, and still so beautiful even in their fragility.”

“Mmmmm,” Liam manages, blushing although a part of his brain judges him for thinking for even just 1 second that Zayn could have been referring to him.  

There’s a beat of silence and then another that feels like an eternity, weighted by Zayn’s words.

“Anyway, yeah my dad told me about it one day. Knew I’d always been into boxing, and that it’d interest a kid who was keen on a bit of history too, and particularly summat with a bit of bite to it, and I fell in love. That, and old mafia films. And also the aforementioned minestrone and spag bol and, yeah, let’s just say sometimes I wish I’d been born in another century. Or at least if I had another life, I could remember the spag bol recipes me old Uncle Luigi must’ve taught me.”

“Luigi?”

Zayn giggles and screw any symphonies or choirs of angels or anything else because it’s the loveliest sound Liam’s heard. 

“Yeah, Luigi or I suppose any other stereotypical Italian name you can think of. I dunno, I just wish these places were still in one piece for us all to enjoy and not just daydream about.”

“What would you do if you could spend just one day there?”

Zayn puffs out a breath, looks thoughtful and moves the spare paper pads he left on the small ledge next to the windows the first time they used this room, dropping them to the floor and then perches himself on the small space.  

“Now you’re asking? One day though? Bloody hell, okay, I’d walk and walk till I got blisters on my feet; go to St Mark's Square, visit the Basilica. I’d go on the grand canal in the most touristy boat I could find and eat the tastiest gelato I'd have just bought from some bloke called Lorenzo."

There's a faraway dreamy look on Zayn's face that takes years off him, not that he needs it. And it feels infectious, like for Liam just being here while Zayn talks takes years of stress and pain away magically.

"Then we'd go to Doge's Palace because I'm a big nerd who loves museums and once I'd walked my feet off, there'd be a gondola just as the light is fading and he'd take us to this restaurant that only the locals know about, and I only know it because in that previous life Luigi was its owner and it's been in the family for generations, and its packed and yet its magical. And the minestrone and parmesan and the crusty bread are heavenly and so's the spaghetti, and then after that we'd walk and walk for hours, like sleep is just this optional thing and, yeah, I'd spend every holiday doing it with the soundtracks of all those classic Italian films in my ears."

"Sounds perfect, Zayn," Liam says, meaning it because it does, and it's clear that Zayn's been imagining it for so long.

He hesitates with the next question. Not because he's scared as much as he just wants to know, and he doesn't expect what his brain treacherously— and more so his heart— is telling him he wants or needs.

It just feels whatever the answer is, it changes things; and things feel like they're going right, and Liam, as captain of all people, shouldn't be the one to risk that. 

Trouble is, the desire to know outweighs the safety-first policy where his heart and this ship are concerned, and that's a change in him he's unsure of how he should manage, so the words are out of his mouth before he's even started to think 'well just leave it, Liam, you idiot'.

"Who's the 'us', the 'we'?"  Liam lowers his eyes as much to make it easier for Zayn to say the truth as it will be on him. 

He doesn't expect Zayn to laugh. A tiny hollow sound and he looks up, sees Zayn staring at his own feet, then turning his head to look out the window.

"All depends, Li. This is all fantasy, right? Not this world of ranks and rules against things yeah?"

He turns his head back and meets Liam's eyes.  

"Yeah," Liam responds quietly. 

"Well then, I reckon the only thing that we would quarrel about would be who'd pay."

"Or which bridge was the nicest."

They share a smile. 

"Sounds like the two of you would have a lovely time," Liam continues.

"First of many trips too. Mostly to Italy until the other one starts talking one time about how he'd dreamed of going to Australia."

Liam pulls a face. "Or Thailand or South America. Argentina and Buenos Aires for the tango."

"Bit selfish cause yours truly has two left feet."

"Good job the other one's a damn good teacher."

"Oh aye?"

"Aye," Liam responds simply. 

Zayn sighs. "S'good to have dreams Li, especially some place like this."

"Even if there's little chance of those dreams coming true?"

"Wouldn't say that, babe. Look at you in charge of all this and where you've come from sitting on your dad's lap, and me and Ant and Danny daydreaming about all this. And I'm here too with you. I'd say anything's possible, the only limit is what your brain tells you."

Quietly Liam adds, "and Starfleet."

Zayn shakes his head. "Always out here hitting us with the reality, eh Captain?"

He stands up and rolls his drawing up.

"Same time next week, yeah?"

Zayn's out the door before Liam can respond, before Liam has a chance to fully react to the casual 'babe' and before Liam can kick himself repeatedly for ruining the best moments by far on this ship.

"Yeah," he says aloud to the empty room, "next week, babe." 

-  -  -  -  -   -  - 

Days pass, turning into weeks with occasional away missions. Exploratory ones rather than first contact.

They refuel once and Liam considers using it as an opportunity to revisit Tryoni so he can return the favour to Zayn with the scone-like cakes given he can't find a recipe for them anywhere and if Harry knows it he's keeping quiet. 

It’s a routine that he should welcome but it's a little dull hence why he's always so grateful when an opportunity to beam somewhere that's new to them, even if it's old hat to others, comes up.

It never occurred to him that it could be a problem to always be on the away teams. No one mentioned it at the academy.

"Yes, well, in theory, it isn’t a problem, Captain," Admiral Stokes says into the screen during what's meant to be just a standard briefing session.

"It's just we need to consider succession planning," Admiral Bennett adds.

Liam almost laughs. "Well, it's not like I'm planning to get killed anytime soon, and surely it sets an example of the importance we place on our contacts with other worlds if I attend. Plus the ship stays in capable hands always, I make sure of that."

The smile on Bennett's face is condescending like his tone.

"It can make the ship more vulnerable, not to mention your away team."

"Okay, so I assume you've discussed it with other captains in the fleet?" Liam asks.

"Where necessary, it will be communicated." Stokes can give Bennett a run for his money in the condescension stakes apparently.

"One final question," Liam leans in towards the screen, "Is this an instruction, an order, or guidance?"

"Captain Payne, you aren't stupid. This is for the good of you and your crew," Stokes replies.

"First time for everything," Liam mutters.

"I beg your pardon?" Bennett growls out.

"I said I'm glad to see you've thought of everything."

Both men narrow their eyes unconvinced.

"Good, well Captain, we look forward to a change in your approach starting with this next away mission that I believe is scheduled for later this morning."

"Yes, Admiral Bennett. Thank you, Admiral Stokes."

And with that, the screen goes blank.

Liam scrapes a hand across his chin, he could do with a shave or direct access to Stokes and Bennett's necks to wring them, but instead, he needs to be in the briefing room for the away mission, and maybe he should do some quick thinking on the way there. 

-  -  -  - 

He thinks of everything but what they said on the way, and his mind is distracted when he arrives so he doesn't notice Niall trying to get his attention until he practically yells, "Fucking hell, that bad?" in Liam's ear.

Liam pulls a face and Niall chuckles.

"Okay, I won’t ask."

Liam sort of wishes he would. Sort of wishes he'd spoken to Zayn or Paddy on the way too.

Instead, everyone on the away team waits expectantly.

The thing is, Liam isn't reckless, nor is he a wanton rule breaker. He's fearless and will do anything for his crew, but he doesn't want to get a reputation for not following what they ask of him at Starfleet.

Then again this is all still new, just over double figures and Liam's still learning.

Maybe some of that learning involves letting go of the reins a little. Letting other people take the lead. Maybe it's about seeing others realise their potential.

"Styles, talk us through the mission parameters."

"Captain, the Minaria state has long been a source of medicine suitable for the curing of some of the most common types of viruses we all face. We have established contact and arranged a handover of fuel in exchange for the medicine that the Doctor will ensure is safe for use back if needed on this ship and for other planets too, particularly Earth."

"Thank you, Styles.” Liam taps his lips with a finger then decision made adds, “So, how do you feel about leading the away mission, Doctor?"

Everyone's attention which had been firmly on Harry flicks quickly to Liam.

"Captain?" Zayn looks confused though he does his best to cover it.

"It's a simple mission and if it's suddenly not, O'Brien will be there. I expect you'll be there for less than twenty minutes, Commander Malik, ordinarily I’d send you too, however, I have reports that are overdue so I'm leaving you in charge of the bridge. Doctor Horan, you'll report to me as soon as you're back, understood?"

"Yes, Captain." Zayn and Niall chorus.

"Good. I'll be in my quarters should anything urgent arise."

It's harder than it should be to walk out, to not make for the transporter room and hijack the whole thing, or go on the bridge instead.

Yet when he's in his quarters, sat at his desk, and he manages to get through two reports he'd put off for weeks while music plays quietly in the background, he feels good and satisfied. Almost like it’s a turning point.

He's realistic enough to know that when push comes to shove if a different kind of away mission came up, one more complex, fraught with danger or a first contact, it'd be different. But baby steps, right?

His door chimes then and he calls out, "Come in." When the doors slide open Niall walks in drenched, but looking happy.

Liam stands up.

"Doctor, oh yeah, I forgot about the weather down on Minaria." Then with a grin, he adds, "Whoops."

Niall's quick with the middle finger and a "With all due respect Captain, go fuck yourself."

"Went well then?"

Niall relaxes, nods and smiles. "Brilliant. Gave us more than they said they would. Happy to do it again. They were grateful for the fuel. It was great."

"Good. Well done. They weren't troubled by my absence?”

Niall shakes his head then narrows his eyes.

"Not in the least bit bothered. I'm confused though. I know Zayn is too. Not that I'm knocking it, and I'm relieved you know the pressure isn't all on you, but why now?"

Liam considers explaining. After all it went fine and he did as 'suggested'. Still, something sits uneasily with it so he doesn't say anything and settles for a smile.

"That'll be all, Doctor. Well done again. Report by the morning."

Niall's exasperated sigh is better than the inquisition he’d expected.

"Yessir."

Then he's gone and Liam sits back down, looking at the time he recalls the instruction he intended to relay in person on the away mission and sends a quick message via the on ship messaging system and at the question mark he gets back in response, he doesn't respond, just sends a 'see you later' and goes back to his reports.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you thought xxx


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter follows on pretty directly from the last and is in Zayn's pov x

'Meet me on deck 9...bring a jacket'  

That's what the message had said. A jacket. Why would he need a jacket and had he even brought one onto the ship?

Turns out, yes he had. A green one he'd bought years ago so he holds it with one hand over his shoulder and gets the turbo lift to deck 9.

The lift opens and Zayn steps out. He'd forgotten that this deck was for the holodecks which occupy deck 11 too.

"Hello? Liam?" He calls out.

"Over here."

"Not helpful," Zayn grumbles to himself but follows the direction of Liam's voice anyway.

"Am I getting warmer?" He shouts as he passes doors till there's only one set. 

"You are now." 

Just like that the doors slide open and Zayn peers in.

"What?"

The sight, just the slightest glimpse, is all he needs to take the two more steps he needs for the doors to slide shut behind him and for the world to expand around him.

"Liam, what?" 

Liam's stood on...a bridge, and not just any bridge. It's a bridge Zayn had drawn once upon a time.

"Someone said not so long ago that I always hit them with reality. This,"  Liam gestures with his hands around him, "this is our reality. For a few hours anyway."

Liam looks shy, hesitant, nervous.

"How, Li?"

"Ah well, it took some doing cause everything was archived but amazing what you can find if you're persistent enough."

Zayn wonders how few people on any planet have him as regularly surprised, lost for words even, as the man in front of him on the Ponti Dei Pugni.

"Thing is I had to compromise. We don't have enough time to do an all-day thing and honestly, Venice at night, these lights and the way they're reflecting off the water, that, and the minestrone, I think they’re the best bits. I just hope you aren't too disappointed."

In any other world, Zayn thinks he'd walk up on that bridge and kiss the uncertainty from Liam's lips. 

It is any other world, a little voice in his head says. And as he walks onto the bridge and takes the steps nearer to Liam, for a moment he thinks he'll do it, but instead, he leans closer, brushes a strand of hair that has fallen across Liam's eye away, and somehow it's more intimate than a kiss could be. Quietly he says, "You're daft Liam Payne, and I wouldn't have it any other way."

The lamp post on the edge of the bridge shows the blush in Liam's cheeks and the not so hesitant smile now.

"Come on, let's go find that minestrone, eh?" 

They fall into step together and walk off the bridge.

This version of Venice is everything Zayn imagined and more, even down to the slight smell of sewers.

They find the restaurant every bit like Zayn had described. Intimate, bustling. Filled only with locals so between him and Liam they use sign language and bits Liam denies he's been practising in recent weeks to get a table.

They order wine by pointing at people on the next table and share an amused smile when the waiter lights a candle and places a flower in a tiny vase next to their seat by the window.

Eventually, with the minestrone ordered and breadsticks opened and being consumed in world record time, they're left alone and Zayn shakes his head.

"What?" Liam asks. "Are me lips dyed extra red from the wine already?"

"No. I just can't believe this and that you kept it quiet. Like, someone did this. For me."

"The only surprise, Malik, is it's not happened more often."

"Cheesy line, babe. You been practising?"

Liam's expression grows serious and Zayn wonders what he said wrong.

"You don't see it do you?"

"See what, Li?"

Liam sets the breadstick he was holding down onto his side plate.

"How important you are. How intelligent you are. How imaginative you are. How incredible you are and how inspiring you are to me in everything. You inspire me, you, only you would have me pulling this and feeling terrified of what it could mean for everything, but feeling safe in the end ‘cause it’s you."

Zayn is quiet sometimes. Hesitant to speak or won’t speak if there's nothing useful he can contribute. He's rarely at a loss for words though. 

"Fucking hell, Liam."

Okay not quite lost for words, but lost for the right words.

"Too much?" Liam says, looking vaguely appalled and like he wants to reach down his own throat and pull the words back.

It’s instinctive more than anything, but he sees it happen does Zayn. The way his hand reaches out to cover Liam's hand that's fidgeting nervously with the napkin, the way his own fingers interlock with Liam's and how he doesn't stop himself, and more importantly, Liam's hand doesn't pull away.

Instead, as Zayn lifts his gaze to Liam's face, Liam's looking down at their hands, a soft smile on his face.

"Never too much, love," Zayn says quietly, accompanying his words with a gentle squeeze of Liam's fingers which Liam reciprocates.

The minestrone comes and is as heavenly as Zayn had imagined. The spaghetti is just the right amount of garlicky, and the wine flows easier with every bite of food.

All the while Zayn doesn't miss the music in the background. Cinema Paradiso. Life is beautiful. The Godfather. 

It’s honestly overwhelming and then you add a pleasantly sozzled Liam, and okay, a pretty happy and merry Zayn into the bargain, and Zayn wouldn't be averse to a permanent holodeck malfunction there and then.

Death by overeating minestrone and pasta, and the feeling in his chest when Liam smiles, feels like the best way to go.

And of course it doesn't happen, and too soon the restaurant owner is practically shoving them out the door.

They walk in silence together. Zayn deep in thought just as much as he imagines Liam is. 

Past bookshops with empty antique bookshelves outside. Past little galleries with art they can just about make out as they peer in.

It's colder now, and Zayn shrugs on his jacket while Liam does the same. Then they're back where they started.

Except that's maybe only in terms of geography, or maybe it's not, and Zayn can't envisage it's as simple as stepping out beyond the doors of the holodeck and everything is as it was before. But it's not quite as simple on the ship when they're Captain and Commander. 

"I know. I'm thinking the same."

Zayn stops halfway across the Ponto dei Pugni and whirls to face Liam.

"What?"

"I mean... that we step out those doors and all this tonight is forgotten. Head-Liam says that's exactly what should happen."

"Heart-Liam?"

Liam shrugs. "Not sure. You?"

"I think we take it day-by-day, hour-by-hour, minute-by-minute, second-by-second, which for vaguely anally retentive planners like you and me will be a proper headfuck, but why not eh?"

When Liam used to stop and think when it was just them it wasn't so much fear Zayn felt, as apprehension. Always waiting for the rug to be pulled. For the fleeting moments of something to be replaced or followed by an inevitable 'and nothing'. 

Now? After tonight?

"I mean it's still a plan, albeit a loose one so yeah, I'm up for it if you are, Zayn?"

Zayn nods.

"I didn’t mess this up, did I? You actually liked it, yeah?" Liam’s voice again is brimming over with hesitation.

Zayn nods. Considers saying how much he loved it even though he's said it over and over already.

Considers sweeping away a strand of hair that's fallen over Liam's eyes multiple times already and accompanying it with one final round of sincere reassurance.

He leans forward before he can stop himself, his hand gently cupping Liam's chin, thumb gently stroking Liam’s facial hair before he tilts it towards him and presses his lips against Liam's for maybe a couple of seconds.

Then he pulls away, his hand moving from Liam's chin, dropping down to squeeze his hand and saying quietly, "That's my answer, babe. 'Kay?"

Liam grins. "Okay." Then quietly, almost conspiratorially, he adds, "babe."

"We'll do it again sometime, yeah?"

"Hell yeah."

"And next time your choice of where we go, okay? Just give me a bit of notice."

"Yeah. Yeah, Zayn, yeah definitely, babe."

He looks so pleased with himself, Zayn thinks he'll never forget how happy Liam looks and how he himself feels in that moment.

It's wonderful. And it still feels wonderful when they walk out the door and away from each other, and it’s how it’s always been, except everything's changed.

-  -  -  -  -  -  - 

The next day comes too soon on the back of the lack of sleep Zayn had and the fact that while the drinking may have happened on the holodeck, hangovers carry on away from there.

Nothing a coffee and a banana can't shift, and he feels a million times better already.

Liam's called him and the senior crew to the briefing room, and as Zayn walks in they're all there already. And so is Liam, looking cheerful. 

"Morning Commander, sleep well?"

"Thanks, Captain. Yes, you?"

"Very well." They share a smile and it’s apparently too obvious as Zayn hears Louis cough dramatically, but in between the coughing he's sure he hears him say 'called it, they've fucked,' but he's cut off by a hissed, 'Shut it Tommo' from Niall, and by glares from everyone else while Liam just smiles serenely and Zayn feels himself relax. Maybe the aftermath of Venice will be easy after all.

"Okay, so the reason I called you all here. We were hailed during the night by a planet that’s less than an hour away. Styles, bring us up to speed."

Harry nods, presses a couple of buttons on the table and brings up a map.

"Nai-se. A planet Starfleet has visited. The last time according to records was 2237 for a brief visit and then 2213 before that. Its inhabitants are believed to be friendly and the planet much like Earth. One strange thing about the people, they live on average for 130 years."

"Why did they contact us after so long?" Paddy asks.

"They want to re-establish contact," Liam replies. 

"And actually it'd be really interesting to study their physiology if we could build a good relationship," Niall interjects. 

"Is that your formal request to join the away team, Doctor?"

"Aye, Captain."

"Fair enough, and I was thinking of me, you Commander Malik. Higgins too. And then O'Brien and two of your team." 

The senior crew nod in agreement. 

"Tomlinson, you'll have the con."

"Yes, Captain."

"Okay, we treat this like first contact as it's been so long. So we make sure we're ready for every eventuality and we can stay for longer if all goes well."

"Do Starfleet know?" Zayn asks.

Liam's smirk is mischievous.

"I may have woken Admiral Bennett up, so yeah, they know."

"Any questions?" At no response, he nods. "Great. Transporter room twenty minutes. Oh, and Commander, a moment please?"

Everyone leaves without a glance except Louis who, well, it's a good job he'll be on the ship otherwise Zayn may have tried to sell him to the people of Nai-se if they're really unlucky.

"You asked me to stay behind, Captain?"

"Now look who's crashing us back to reality and being all serious," Liam teases and Zayn decides he hates him just as Liam walks over to him and leans in, close enough that Zayn can feel his warm breath on his neck. 

"Glad you slept well. Better hurry. Transporter room in 18 minutes now."

Then he's gone, leaving Zayn to roll his eyes and have the most amused smile on his face all at the same time.

Who said men can't multitask?

-  -  -  -  -  -

Nai-se reminds Zayn of ancient villages he read about in old mission reports from years ago and from history books in school.

They're in a bustling square with small huts selling produce and textiles. In the centre is a well, and there’s bunting which runs over and between the front of every hut.

There are mainly men in the square, with the few women there serving in the huts.

The away team are in a semicircle with Liam in front of them and Zayn flanking him.

In front of them, an old man that reminds Zayn of what he used to think Father Christmas looked like.

He's smaller than them but still a commanding presence even with the smile on his face.

He's called Alegre, no other names mentioned, which means maybe the people of Nai-se only have one name.

He's been talking for a few minutes and Zayn is listening while he scans the crowd but he's tuned him out a little till he hears.

"USS Galaxy."

He does what he thinks must seem like a cliche double-take and realises he didn't mishear the man when Liam turns slightly, catches his eye, and then turns back to Alegre.

"I'm sorry, sir, can you repeat that?"

"The USS Galaxy? Well yes, they were the last ship from Earth to formally visit us, very many years ago, 2214 or 15."

"Try 2213," Zayn suggests, something unsettling churning his stomach.

"2213, that's right. A long time ago, a man not much older than you Captain, came with such exciting ideas and promises and we never saw them again, so you must understand our surprise when you contacted us."

"I'm sorry, what did you say?" Liam asks the question Zayn's thinking.

Zayn keeps listening as he scans the crowd more closely, noticing Paddy does the same.

"We received a message requesting a chance to finally connect properly, build relationships. And we thought it would be impolite to say no."

Liam shakes his head. "But no, we didn't do that. It was you. Your planet sent us the message."

The man looks confused, doubtful.

Zayn looks left, then right, then left again, except then he immediately looks right and he blinks his eyes shut, sees crimson coloured blood, feels a sharp pain and stumbles backwards.

"Malik, you ok?" O’Brien asks from behind him. 

"I think there's been some kind of mistake," Alegre says, but Zayn can't think of anything beyond that face, the smirk.

"Captain, we need to ge—"

The world turns then. Sideways and then upwards and then down to nothing.

Except for blackness for who knows how long, till suddenly there's light that's too bright but has great smudges obscuring Zayn's view.

And did anyone get the number of that truck that blindsided him?

He thinks he tries to sit up and he thinks he groans. He definitely vomits but the sound as he starts to cough is muffled.

Zayn rubs his eyes, shakes his head, though he regrets the movement immediately, and blinks once, then twice, then looks around him. He sees debris, devastation, and that's when he remembers.

The USS Galaxy. Alegre. Liam. The man.

Fuck. 

He tries to stand up but stumbles and a hand catches him and steadies him before he crashes to the ground.

He looks at the person, hoping it’s Liam. It's not though, somehow he knew it wouldn't be.

It’s Niall who's saying something which, though hearing is coming back incrementally, is still too muffled and patchy so Zayn shakes his head.

Why are they bothering him? Where's Liam? Why aren't they looking for him? 

He thinks he's shouting it but maybe they're deaf too.

He's not sure how long it goes on for. He knows he can't move, won't move till they find Liam or at least act like they're looking for him.

Then a hand touches his knee and another rubs the back of his neck gently and he looks up.

Louis. Isn't he meant to be on the ship? 

The hand leaves his knee and then he can see Louis is holding something and the gentle rub on his neck carries on as Zayn peers up at him, Louis’ mouth is set in a thin grim line before he murmurs, "I'm sorry."

And that's when Zayn looks at what Louis is holding. Really looks. Immediately wishes he hadn't, and blacks out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know...sorry! Please let me know what you thought, what you think could happen next and if you enjoyed this chapter, I would be so grateful if you could take a moment to press the little button below. Thanks so much for reading. xx

**Author's Note:**

> please leave a kudos if you like and do let me know what you think in the comments xxx


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